Tainted Betrayal
by NephyRiddle
Summary: DISCONTINUED PreHBP Harry is framed and sent to Azkaban. While there he gains the memories of Salazar Slytherin and starts plotting. He is later proven innocent and runs away but with the Order looking for him, as well as the other founders, can he stay
1. Prologue

**Warning for those who are reading Dark Angel**: This has some minor spoilers for my other fic. While they are both very different fics there are some similarities; the only huge one that I can think of being the founders are the same people (at least in these two…In a third or fourth…Who can tell?).

I'm sorry that this is not an update in Dark Angel, but at the moment the next chapter is going incredibly slowly. My muses have wanted me to write this for a while and are grabbing new fics at an incredible rate (mutters angrily about crazy muses). So I present you with my new story (the next chapter in Dark Angel shouldn't take _that_ long but I wouldn't look forward to it anytime soon).

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I don't even claim to own the plot. I may have invented a bit, but Harry being framed and sent to Azkaban is a commonly used plot. My muses and I also snitched bits of plots (with permission) from Lord Silvere's excellent Azkaban fic: Earl of the North. Oh and I don't own Salazar!Harry either, I stole that from a number of other fics (go see 'em in my C2, if you want). The actual way I wrote it and stuff I wrote is all mine and my muses. I just stole a million quadrillion ideas from elsewhere to make it.

:Mindspeech:

-Parseltongue-

**Prologue: Of Prophecies and Secrets**

The circular room was well lit by large windows and, when the sun hung low in the sky, seemingly sinking deep inside the forest and casting long shadows across the room, there were plenty of lamps, as well as a large fireplace, to light the room. This was the room that the present Headmaster of Hogwarts resided in, as did his predecessor and every other headmaster of this particular school. It had been this way since the mysterious disappearance (and alleged death) of Godric Gryffindor along with his two friends Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw (presumed to be the work of Salazar Slytherin).

In any case the Hogwarts Four were long dead and the room was presently occupied by an old man with a flowing silver beard and twinkling blue eyes. Albus Dumbledore was sitting at his large desk working on the never-ending mountain of paperwork that flooded his desk every school year. He was in the middle of all the organizing, filing, and filling out when he was interrupted by a knock on the door.

He looked up to see what he had missed before; a small, crystal sphere sitting on the desk was faintly glowing blue. He knew by looking at it that it was a student at the door (a Ravenclaw by the color) as it would glow brighter in the presence of a teacher. He used his glasses, which were heavily charmed to see through everything from enchantments to doors, to see who it was.

"Come in," he called, once he recognized her, "What can I do for you Miss Lovegood?"

"Professor McGonagall asked me to give you a note," the Ravenclaw said dreamily. Luna Lovegood was one of the odder students that attended Hogwarts. She believed in all sorts of strange creatures and seemed to constantly be daydreaming. She was also close to Harry Potter and had been so since the previous school year. Dumbledore knew from experience that this was not good; he needed to distance the two and introduce Harry to better, hand picked friends.

"Thank you," Dumbledore said, taking the note. He invited Luna to sit as he scanned it; poor Minerva didn't seem to be feeling well, by the sound of it. He wrote a concerned reply and sealed it. He was about to give it to Luna when the girl stiffened suddenly. Her eyes started to glow bright blue and the glow spread over the rest of her body until she was enveloped in the blue glow.

Then, in a voice that echoed with layers as if hundreds of people were speaking together with one feminine voice rising above the others,

"The favored of Prophecy's children shall be reborn as the seventh month dies,

And he shall vanquish thou who claims the title of Lord of Darkness…

Thy born in the flames of a phoenix, he who has been cursed by prophesy,

Raised by his mother, one of Darkness's maidens,

Child of Prophecy, Fate, and Darkness,

The acclaimed heir of the Lord of Darkness and Serpents shall fall by his hand…

But he shall have help from the valiant knight, the wise enchanter, and loving healer,

For without the other prophesy touched, Prophecy's child shall fall…

So head this warning from the Divine:

Betrayal knows no end and the betrayed shall extract their revenge…

Beware the tainted children of both Darkness and the Light…"

The glow faded and Luna slumped back in her seat, her eyes closed. Her eyes snapped open again suddenly and Dumbledore rearranged his wide-eyed look of surprise into a look of concern.

"Are you feeling okay, Miss Lovegood?"

"Did you see that grumpf?" Luna asked, dazed, "It was almost as big as my hand!" Dumbledore sighed with relief; the girl did not know anything. She might have slipped into a dream as she told the prophesy; it was quite common among the lower-class seers.

"I'm sorry to say that I must have missed it," Dumbledore said, "But you must get back to class, you've been gone quite a while. Could you deliver this note to Professor McGonagall for me?"

"Of course," Luna said vaguely. She took the note and left the office, leaving a thoughtful headmaster in her wake.

_So Harry isn't the one destined to defeat Voldemort_, he thought, _who is it then? A whole sixteen years wasted on a pawn while my queen is still somewhere on the board. I need to find him, and quick._

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Luna left the Headmaster's office grimacing. Grumpf? Was there really no other creature whose name she could come up with on quick notice? She was still rather fond of the Crumple-Horned Snorkack, but it wouldn't do to keep using the same one over and over again; it ruined the effect…

What really mattered was that she _remembered_. Remembered another lifetime just as clearly as she remembered her own; remembered Helga, Godric, Salazar…And remembered the pain that came with the darkest founder. He had been different, no doubt about that, but he had been their friend…She had to find him; she had to find all of them. But if they didn't remember...She couldn't interfere, as much as it might hurt. She would merely have to think of something to do about it.

Luna strode down the hall, a decisive gleam in her eye. The first place to go would be the library; she would head there as soon as classes were over for the day. Rowena Ravenclaw, enchantress of the Hogwarts Four, had been reborn.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

So how is it? Still wish that this was a Dark Angle update? Looking forward to more? Do you like the prophesy? (Yes these questions are to trick you into reviewing :P)

But really…Review?


	2. Of Memories and Dementors

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I don't even own the whole plot (go see the disclaimer in the first chapter). And the whole Shadowalker stuff…I've seen it used in quite a few fics so I'm sorry if this is stealing…All I can really say is I know it wasn't originally mine.

:Mindspeech:

-Parseltongue-

**Chapter One: Of Memories and Dementors**

_Harry Potter glared at his best former friend who was sitting at the other end of the Gryffindor table. How could he be so clueless, so immature? Ron ignored him (or didn't notice) taking another bite of chicken while talking to his girlfriend, Hermione Granger, who had taken his side in the argument as she always did. Harry watched Ron say something to Hermione and they began to leave the Great Hall together. _

_As they neared the doors, Ron collapsed suddenly. Hermione shrieked, drawing the attention of everyone in the hall. She started yelling, shaking her boyfriend and was halfway through calling his name when she herself collapsed. There was instant pandemonium as students started panicking and the teachers were too occupied trying to help the two fallen Gryffindors to calm down the rest of the students. Ron and Hermione's friends ran across the hall to try and help; Harry included. He might not have been on very good terms with the two, but they were his friends._

"_Don't come near them," Lavender shrieked, "I know you did this!"_

"_What?" Harry asked, shocked._

"_You did this! I saw…" _

"_Miss Brown, that's quite enough," Professor McGonagall interrupted, "There's no need to go throwing pointless accusations around!"_

"_You don't understand, I saw him…"_

"_QUIET!" The shout from the teacher's table cut through the commotion and there was silence in the hall. Everybody turned towards the table to see Professor Dumbledore once again standing at the teacher's table, "Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger have been taken to the Hospital Wing and are being taken care of. They are in no danger at the moment. Miss Brown, Mr. Potter, Professor McGonagall, please meet me in my office immediately."_

"_Well, come along you two," McGonagall said, leading the way to the Headmaster's office. Lavender followed, glaring at Harry who, utterly confused, followed. They had a seat and waited for the Headmaster to arrive. Half an hour later, Dumbledore returned to his office, looking older and wearier than ever._

"_Headmaster, are you alright?" McGonagall asked worriedly._

"_I'm fine, Minerva," Dumbledore said, with a reassuring smile, "I was just talking to the Aurors."_

Professor McGonagall gasped,

"Is it that serious?" 

"_Indeed," Dumbledore said, "I'm afraid that Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger have been poisoned."_

"_Will they be okay?" McGonagall asked._

"_Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger will recover in time," Dumbledore said, "Poppy and Severus are looking at them now. Miss Patil and Mr. Finnigan however…"_

"_Parvati?" Lavender's face was white, "Or Padma? Oh, and poor Seamus! What's wrong with them?"_

"_Parvati Patil; her sister is quite distressed. I'm afraid that Miss Patil and Mr. Finnigan were the two sitting nearest Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger," Dumbledore said gravely, "They seem to have been given the poison too, by mistake no doubt, and were unnoticed in the commotion. By the time that any of the other students realized that they too had been poisoned it was too late for either of them."_

_Lavender burst into tears. Harry noticed after a minute that she was speaking, though he only caught a few phrases: '…all my fault…' …'I should have…' '…would have noticed…' _

_Suddenly her head snapped up and she glared at Harry, _

"_It was him!" she shouted through tears, "He killed them!" Harry was numb. He couldn't feel anything but a slight bewilderment. Seamus (his roommate for many years) and Padma (he had taken her to the Yule Ball, hadn't he?)…They weren't dead. They couldn't be dead. How could they be dead?_

"_Miss Brown," Professor McGonagall said, "I understand that you are having a hard time but what have I told you about spreading that ridiculous rumor!"_

_Dumbledore quieted her with a glance,  
_

"_Why do you say that, Miss Brown?"_

"_Harry had this really big fight with Ron and Hermione this morning," Lavender started, "When I was going to Charms, I heard voices in the trophy room and when I went to see who it was I saw him talking to a house elf. He was telling it to put something in Ron and Hermione's dinner!"_

"_I didn't!" Harry, who had been in a daze before this, shouted, "I'd never do anything like that!"_

_Dumbledore studied Lavender over his half-moon glasses, ignoring Harry,_

"_And why did you not then inform a teacher?"_

"_I didn't think it was that important," Lavender said, looking tearful, "I didn't know it was poison."_

"_This is ridiculous!" Harry shouted, "I never…I haven't…Ron and Hermione are my friends!"_

"_Were your friends!" Lavender snapped, "You told them this morning that they weren't your friends any more!"_

The memory ended abruptly as the dementors were forced to leave their victims so that the house elves could bring the prisoners their dinner. Harry Potter lay curled on the floor, still trapped in his memories.

_He had been arrested shortly after that…His belongings had been searched and the Aurors had struck gold in his new trunk, in a room-compartment that he never even knew he had…A house elf had admitted to putting the poison in Ron and Hermione's food…They had found a Dark Potions book, still opened and bookmarked to a page that contained the recipe to the very potion that Ron and Hermione had been poisoned with along with a letter from Voldemort…There were even traces of the potion in a still-warm cauldron in the middle of the room…Ron told all that he knew of Harry's life story in the trial, but letting his jealousy and anger show through by twisting parts of it and inventing others…Telling how Harry had again and again sacrificed the lives of others around him for fame and glory…Hermione had supported her boyfriend…He had been given a life sentence in Azkaban for murder, as well as past actions…_

The dementors returned, and Harry was once pulled into another memory…

_Harry stared blankly at the wall of his cell. He would be transported to Azkaban the next day, giving his 'friends and family' some time to talk to him. They had all come to taunt, of course. There were a few missing from the crowd, but there were so many others that Harry didn't notice. He soon learned to block out their hateful words and had refused to cry, no matter what cruel words came his way. _

"_Ron, you're back!" called Dean Thomas eagerly, "Did you get the goods?" Ron smirked maliciously, holding up what he had brought and causing Dean to grin widely (and with a touch of insanity); he had taken the death of his best friend hard. Harry froze as he recognized his trunk. They wouldn't… _

"_It's too bad we're not allowed in there," Ron said, "I'd like to give that _murderer_ a piece of my mind." Harry flinched slightly, trying to ignore them. _

_Ron frowned at him, "He's not looking this way."_

"_I can fix that," Hermione said spitefully, "Aspicio Spectum!" Harry's head turned towards his unwanted visitors against his will. "Petrificus Totalus!"_

_Ron rubbed his hands together gleefully, _

"_What should we start with?"_

"_How about his photo album," Hermione suggested, "He's rather attached to those stupid pictures."_

_Ron snatched the book out of the trunk and ripped out a handful of pages,_

"_Who wants some?" The pages were eagerly snatched up and Ron distributed them out to everybody. Harry was forced to watch as the students used every spell they could think of to destroy the pictures. Some ripped them up with their bare hands and tossed them in a pile on the floor, setting fire to the pile once it was big enough. _

_Ron then reached into the trunk and pulled out Hedwig. He had obviously crammed her cage into the trunk with the thought that she was just another thing important to Harry. Harry watched, horrified, as they tortured his beautiful owl to death and then mutilated her body beyond recognition, tossing it into his cell when they were finished with it. _

_The crowd proceeded to destroy all of his personal possessions except some money and his invisibility cloak, which Ron kept. Hermione then released the spell and they walked away laughing. _

_They were not the only visitors that Harry had that night. Remus Lupin spent a good hour yelling at him about how "Lily and James would be so disappointed in you! And Sirius…He thought of you as his own son and this is how you repay him?" Other people (teachers, news reporters, and people that he had never met) had come to yell at him as well. _

Harry was still lost in memories. It was how he spent a majority of his time, not that he had any choice in the matter. Occasionally he would regain consciousness for a while, but his muscles had long atrophied past the state of usefulness. The house elves fed him just enough to keep him alive as they had been instructed.

One single thing happened this particular night; one everyday occurrence that changed Harry's life forever. The clock struck midnight. Of course, there wasn't a clock anywhere near Harry nor indeed was he in any condition to hear one but that wasn't important. What was important was the date, for it happened to be his eighteenth birthday. And that was what mattered.

His unhappy memories were quite suddenly interrupted as a tide of new memories pushed itself into his mind…

_He was about six and being taught magic by his mother…_

_He was ten and his father, learning that his mother was a witch, killed her…He barely managed to escape with his life and was sent to a makeshift magic school; a war was starting…He met Godric Gryffindor there and, though they did not get along at first, they become great friends…_

_He was thirteen and they were sent into the battle against the Dark Lord once they had learned enough magic to survive…His skill for potions became well known and the two friends were separated so he could brew healing potions and poisons for the army…_

_He was fifteen and he finally met Godric again…His friend was injured and was being cared for by the healer, Helga Hufflepuff…The three of them along with Helga's friend, the enchantress Rowena Ravenclaw, became good friends…They wanted to build a school together but couldn't because of the war…They came up with a risky plan to destroy the Dark Lord…They managed, miraculously, to pull it off…_

_He was sixteen and the school was finally ready…He let's some of his stronger opinions on Dark Magic slip and he and Godric start to fight…Godric got injured when he accidentally released a burst of accidental magic…They apologized to each other after that…_

_He was seventeen and a new Dark Lady came into power …The other founders wanted to help fight against her, but had responsibilities in the school…He didn't want to be involved in another war…He and Godric started fighting again…The Dark Lady attacked a nearby town and all four Founders went to help…It was revealed that the Dark Lady is his cousin…He apparated away, horrified…Godric was badly wounded in the fight…He tried to help his friend, but Godric banished him from the school…He killed himself in a magical suicide on his eighteenth birthday…_

As Harry's mind absorbed these memories, his body writhed and twisted on the ground as new, darker, magic poured into it, repairing his muscles and some of the malnutrition. His whole body glowed dark green; as green as his eyes or the killing curse. The dementors swarmed closer, savoring the fresh, painful memories but fled as a wave of pure magic of the darkest type was let free. Suddenly it all stopped and Harry lay panting on the floor, exhausted yet invigorated by his new magic.

So…He, Harry Potter was Salazar Slytherin. He knew it should shock him, amaze him, horrify him, or _something_, but it didn't. It occurred to Harry, or rather _Salazar_, that this might just be one of those things that hits you full force later, but that didn't seem quite right either. He wasn't shocked, amazed, or horrified but rather calmly amused at his own thoughts. Weird.

Salazar stared blankly at the stone wall. Wasn't the pattern of stones ever so interesting? And the way that rock was cracked just so; just fascinating. And…Oh look, was that a spider? Salazar sighed; he was incredibly bored, as he had finished marveling on the ironies of life an hour or so ago; the dementors couldn't penetrate his strong Occlumency walls. Not that he was complaining exactly, but it was _boring_. Of course, if he let his mind wander too far he'd always find himself back on the subject of his banishment or betrayal.

He wandlessly conjured a ball of glowing green light and started tossing it around. Wandless magic was thought impossible even by Dumbledore and Voldemort, though it had been extraordinarily common in Salazar's time (though most couldn't do more than a summoning charm because they lacked the power). People nowadays probably lacked the belief, rather than power, necessary to do so. It was a pity that the wandless arts had been forgotten, though a big advantage.

Actually…A prison like Azkaban should have had magic suppressing charms all over it, though maybe the Ministry felt confident that the dementors would suffice. Salazar snorted. The ministry may have been full of idiots, but they weren't _that_ stupid. If there were magic suppressing charms than either they were really weak or his magic was really strong. There really was no way to tell until he got out.

Which led to his next question: would he break out? He could easily break out, of course, and it would be rather dull to stay…But then they'd go printing junk about how he'd joined Voldemort and he really wanted to clear his name (not because he wanted to go on using it but because he wanted his friends to know how they deserted them). It really didn't make any sense to stay…But there was nobody looking for him, even hunting him as they would when news of his escape reached the press. He might be able to create an illusion of himself, but he doubted his ability to sustain such a thing at long distance, especially if someone tried to touch him for whatever reason. On the other hand, he could live quite comfortably in his cell with a few adjustments, all of which could be hidden to other's eyes by a few simple illusion charms.

His scar burned and he hissed angrily, all thoughts of escape forgotten. Voldemort had taken to gleefully sending Harry images of Death Eater raids and meetings, enjoying Harry's frustration of knowing so much information and not being able to tell anyone about it. Though he was not doing so tonight (Salazar's Occlumency walls no doubt kept him out) he could not block the pain in his scar (it hurt whenever Voldemort used to dark mark, something about the two marks interfering with each other) any more than Snape could block his dark mark. Though the pain was on his head, there was no mind magic being used so he couldn't block against it.

Salazar _hated_ being helpless; hated knowing important information that he could do nothing with. But he _could_ do something about it, couldn't he? Now that the dementors no longer affected him, now that he had his memories back. Salazar smirked; there was an attack planned on Diagon Alley in a couple hours, a birthday present from Voldemort, and he knew for sure that he wasn't going to miss it.

He started to prepare almost absent mindedly. He had the help of both dark and light magic, though a wand would be useful and some type of weapon. And he needed to get himself something to wear; something a little more intimidating than a regular black battle robe (which could be pretty intimidating when need be). Those things could take a while to get so he'd just have to transfigure them today.

Salazar had one hidden gift, however, that would be _extremely_ useful. He had the tiniest bit of Shadowalker blood in him, so little that it had taken three immensely powerful rituals to enable him to use it to its full potential. Even so, his full potential was barely anything to what a full blooded Shadowalker could do. Shadowalkers were an ancient race, very closely related to vampires. It was said that they died out long before Salazar's time, though it really was impossible to be sure. Their abilities to hide in shadows (called Lurking), travel directly from shadow to shadow despite wards and any other obstacles (called Sliding), and sometimes even control shadows gave them their name, though they're also very good with mind magic and were also shape-shifters.

Salazar could both Lurk and Slide quite well, which would cover transportation easily. His mind magic was also fairly good, though was not much better than very good human's. He was hardly a shape-shifter, though he could make a few changes to his body but it was very limited as was his ability to control shadows.

He conjured up a set of black battle robes and changed into them, not much worried about his privacy, as the nearest sane person was a couple floors above him. Salazar pulled the hood on, enlarged it slightly so it shadowed his face, put a charm on it so it couldn't fall back and unshadow his face, and then called up some shadows to completely cover his face. The end effect was that nobody would see his face, which was spooky and helped keep it anonymous. As an afterthought he changed his eye color to silver (enabling himself to see with ought glasses as he did so, Ron had taken them after the trial) and parted the shadows around them so they glowed eerily. As a second afterthought he once again summoned the shadows and attached them to his robes so they seemed to melt into darkness.

Salazar conjured a mirror and stepped back to take a look at himself. He liked the effect but there was still a few things missing. For one a wand, but there was no time to fix that. He conjured a pair of black gloves and boots and put them on before shifting his attention to the weapon he would need (more for effect than usage). A silver short sword decorated with emeralds was quickly conjured and attached to his belt and a pair of matching daggers were hidden in a sleeve and boot. There, that was perfect (except for the fact that he needed a wand and it would be nice if his daggers were coated with poison, but that could be dealt with later).

The last thing he did before leaving was create an illusion of himself to sit in the cell while he was gone. It wasn't like he was expecting any visitors but better safe than sorry. Salazar was about to Shift when an idea popped into his head. He changed his target, smirking. He had time for a little bit of fun.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Albus Dumbledore watched the Order members bickering amongst themselves, too deeply in thought to quiet them. Harry had been their last hope, their last chance to get rid of Voldemort forever. Dumbledore had never dreamed that Harry would think himself as special because of it, consider himself worthy of special treatment. But that was what happened, wasn't it? Harry couldn't possibly have thought he could get away with it in normal circumstances.

This was the part that troubled Dumbledore the most, not that Harry had been their last hope (for indeed he wasn't, not after a new prophesy had been made) but that Harry had deemed himself special. That should not have happened and Dumbledore wondered what could have possibly gone wrong. Harry had been raised in an environment where that sort of attitude should never have been allowed to establish itself, yet somehow he had turned dark despite all of Dumbledore's planning. Just like Tom.

Tom Riddle had been a smart child whose future had looked anything but dim. He'd become the Minister of Magic, some teacher's declared, while others believed that he'd do something good for the world; create a cure for an incurable disease or some other benevolent task. Nobody had been more surprised than Dumbledore when he turned dark but at least he had managed to do his duty beforehand and defeated Grindelwald.

The Order members were loosing hope, as was evident in their constant bickering. They were no longer confident in their ability to win the war, even after Dumbledore had told them about a prophesy that assured their victory. At first they had been determined to find their new hero but, as the years dragged by, even the most cheerful lost their optimism.

Dumbledore was jerked rather rudely from his musings when a particularly noisy fight erupted between Mad-Eye Moody and Ron Weasley, one of the younger members.

"Why can't we join the fights?" Ron shouted, is face red with rage and his fists clenched, "I bet I could take out half the Death Eaters by myself. I mean, look what I did to Potter!" Ron considered himself something of a war hero after Harry was arrested and seemed to think that he had something to do with the actual arrest.

"It's an attitude like that that's going to get you killed," growled Moody, one of the few who openly believed in Harry's innocence, "You're young, inexperienced, and overconfident. You might have been lucky with a few minor death eaters in the past but your no match against the better ones, especially a full raid."

"I'm eighteen!" Ron scoffed, "I've had plenty of experience. You're just paranoid, Moody."

"There's a Muggle saying, you know," said a voice from the back of the hall, "It's not paranoia if they're really out to get you." Heads snapped towards the unfamiliar voice and three stunners were shot out before he was finished with his sentence. They fizzled away into nothing halfway towards their target and a hushed silence fell over the Order.

Dumbledore surveyed the newcomer. Because so many Order members were away in other countries there were many empty seats and the remaining members had moved closer to Dumbledore. The whole back half of the table was completely empty and, since they had stopped lighting the torches in that part of the room, it was heavily shadowed.

The stranger was sitting quite comfortably in one of the farthest chairs and was covered in shadows. Indeed, it was hard to tell where his black battle robes ended and the shadows began. He was completely covered in the robes except for his eyes, which shone bright silver. The man shifted slightly and Dumbledore caught a glimpse of a sword with a silver hilt that was decorated with emeralds.

"Who are you?" Dumbledore asked the shadowy figure, not allowing his voice to show his nervousness.

"Tut tut, Dumbledore," The man said in a mocking voice, "So rude. And I was only trying to help. Well, I suppose if you don't want the information that I was going to give you…" He gave a dramatic sigh.

"No, no," Dumbledore said hurriedly, "You can stay." The man remained silent. Dumbledore waited, becoming more nervous every minute and sweating slightly under the man's calm stare.

"I apologize for my earlier rudeness," Dumbledore continued, "This place is supposed to be secret, so you can imagine my concern when a complete stranger appears in the middle of a meeting."

"Well then," the man said, "There's going to be a Death Eater raid in Diagon Alley in about…Five minutes." The hall erupted in murmurs.

"And why should we believe you?" Moody growled suspiciously.

"Who do you think you are? You can't just waltz in here and expect us to believe you!" Ron said rudely. The clamor of protests became louder and louder until Dumbledore intervened.

"ENOUGH!" he shouted, "We thank you for your information but we really have no way of telling if it is a trap or not. How did you get this information?"

"A trap in the middle of Diagon Alley?" the man asked disbelievingly, "Merlin, your stupider than I thought. I got this information my own way and I couldn't care less if you believe me or not. I just wanted to give you an opportunity to save lives." Dumbledore looked questioningly at one of the Order members.

"I have heard nothing of this attack," said the Order member, "But the Dark Lord has become more and more closed around me so I cannot be sure."

"That's because he knows you're a spy, Snape," the man said cheerfully, "And he's planning to have you killed, just so you know. He's already angry because you ignored his call just half an hour ago." Dumbledore, who had stopped Snape from going to that meeting, was becoming worried. Who was this man who seemed to know so much about Tom?

"Still," Dumbledore said, "there's no…" He was interrupted as emerald flames roared to life in the fireplace and somebody fell into the room.

"Dumbledore," wheezed the little old wizard who fell out of the fireplace, "Diagon Alley…There's been an attack…You-Know-Who…He's _there_…Was minding the shop…Death Eaters everywhere…" The Order members exchanged glances.

"Thank you, Alfred," Dumbledore said, springing to action, "Madame Pomfrey, please take him to the hospital wing. I'm afraid you'll have many more patents before long." He turned to look at the man who had informed them of the attack but he was gone. Dumbledore had no time to worry about him; he'd spend time on that later. They had to protect Diagon Alley!

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Okay, I know the way I did it was awfully cliché, but I sort of like it this way…And I added some new stuff…I think? Ah, whatever.

**Trunks2598**: Well, Salazar's reborn in this chapter and the other two get their memories back towards the end of Harry's imprisonment. Thanks for the review!

**As**: Oh, and why not? I pretty much hate Ron and Hermione, but Ginny isn't bad…

**DebzThePadFootmoonyPron**: Well yes, I like Severus and yes, he will be on Harry's side. Sort of. Salazar is already booked as Harry, sorry 'bout that. And Godric…Well go read Dark Angle (one of my other fics); he's not Neville, though Neville is nice and it's a good guess. For Hufflepuff…Well yeah, Susan Bones was one of my two guesses, though I wanted to put her in Rowena/Luna's year. Her current identity is pretty much undecided, though I have a pretty good idea. Sadly, Sev and Harry did not get along before his arrest…But they shall get along later.

**UnSerious Sirius**: Thank you! Yes, Luna's oddness is an act, though oddness is awesome…

**HermioneGreen**: Thanks! But uh…Worms on your tongue? Ah whatever…

**Spinnerofdark**: Yup, same theme with a different plot. Yeah, Harry is still the one destined to defeat Voldie, though Dumbledore doesn't consider it might be him. Dunno, it makes perfect sense to my muses…

**Valkyrie Nienna Helyanwe**: The original plan for that prophesy was to make it seem a little less like Harry…But whatever. Dumbledore didn't consider that Harry could be the one in that prophesy, maybe because he doesn't know that Harry was 'reborn as the seventh month dies'.

**Yashaness**: I've been very lazy recently…But I will update both stories eventually. Thankees!

…: Dark Angle will be updated, but not for a while. In the meantime, I'm going to have fun with my new fic. Thank you!

**Tcalo**: Thank you! 0.o Spanish? Didn't mean to do that…It's fixed now.

**Ra's image**: Thankees! I don't particularly have anything against Dumbledore but Manipulative!Dumbledore stories are fun.

**Jensindenial3516**,** Hazel Maraa**,** Concrete13rose**,** OniLion**,** HecateDeMort**,** Pazed**,** Sealunis**,** Quillian**,** and Elvengoddess696**: Thank you!

**lmill123**: Thanks! It took a while to put together the prophesy but I like the end result. I said in the summary that Harry is Salazar (I'm completely obsessed with that, it's in all my other fics too). Neville isn't a founder in my story, but it is a good idea.

Gah, what is with these advertisements on the bottom?

Review?


	3. Of Battles and Plots

I've added a line to the prophesy because some of my reviewers have rightfully pointed out that Dumbledore really should have thought that Harry was the one in the prophesy anyways. I've also changed chapter one (or two if you count the prologue) so that Parvati Patil and Seamus Finnigan died from the poison. It really couldn't be helped and I had tried to avoid it. Everything that happened to him seemed a bit extreme (to me) for an attempted (and failed) murder…Even if it was a dark potion and everything. Well…Maybe not but whatever. Also, it now also has him joining Voldie as one of the reasons he was sent to Azkaban. I just can't seem to post the changes to that chapter because the site's messed up. Whatever.

I'm sorry, I posted this prematurely. I thought that it was okay if I just wrote it out but I wasn't sure where I was going with it and the whole thing just collapsed on me. That's the main reason that I haven't updated in so long and why I decided it was so necessary to change those little details in the previous chapters.

Sorry for the wait and enjoy this new chapter!

_When is Harry going to be free or do they find out they betrayed him?_

_Right not Salazar is pretty much free, but he's chosen to stay in Azkaban until he can prove his innocence as it'll be easier from there. He wants them to know they betrayed him._

_For those who were wondering who believed Harry/Salazar to be innocent (specifically Luna and Snape – plus a person who thought Moody would be the last person to believe Harry)._

_I don't have all of them planned out. The founder(s) who are aware mostly believe in his innocence but mostly just want to at least talk to him and find out (nobody really heard his side of the story). Snape has his doubts about Harry's guilt because he thinks Harry's too Gryffindorish to join Voldie. He doesn't really care but he doesn't think too highly of how easily Harry was betrayed by his friends. Moody believes Harry because his paranoia makes him believe that _nothing_ is quite what is seems and that if something comes to you too easily or is done too perfectly than something is obviously wrong. Anyone else you'll just have to wait and find out unless you ask me specifically – meaning I haven't really decided yet. _

_Is Harry going to be good/bad?_

_It depends on your definition of good/bad. He's not going to just forgive the whole Wizarding World, join the Order, and defeat Voldie for them. But he's also against Voldie and not about to join the Death Eaters. He'll help when it's needed – the Order an Ministry and too incompetent to protect innocents. _

_Is Draco going to be eventually introduced into this fic?_

_Yes, Draco is coming into the story very soon; at least within the next couple chapters. He _is_ one of my favorite characters, after all. _

_Did Snape think that Harry was innocent?_

_He has his doubts, though only because he thinks that Harry's too Gryffindorish to join Voldemort and try to kill his friends._

_Harry/Salazar's not going to forgive the idiots? Will Harry laugh, when his innocence is found out? No forgiveness?_

_Laugh? Maybe. Forgive? Definitely not. _

_Someone also pointed out that perhaps I overdid it a little with the way people were reacting, especially with everyone destroying his things._

_I completely agree. I could never find quite the right balance when making this scene. But think of it this way: all these people have been stacking all their hopes and dreams on Harry. They all have absolute confidence that he's perfect in every way and that he'll get rid of Voldemort for them. Then they find out that he's working _with_ Voldemort and all their hopes and dreams come crashing down. He's their scapegoat. _

Disclaimer: I own nothing already! Okay? And I definitely don't own Harry Potter. If I did I wouldn't have done _that_ in the sixth book…Well, _any_ of that. There were a lot of _them _(meaning, I suppose, plural of that).

:Mindspeech:

-Parseltongue-

**Chapter Two: Of Battles and Plots**

Salazar Slid away from the Order's headquarters grinning broadly. It was incredibly fun watching the Order members run around like a bunch of headless chickens. Figuratively, of course; they were neither running nor headless but their cluelessness and that air of panicked shouting…A sudden scream cut through the air and Salazar cursed, snapping his attention back to the matter at hand.

He started running towards the screams, which were coming from somewhere near the Leaky Cauldron. People were running away from the Death Eaters while others stood frozen. The smarter ones found refuge in shops and barricaded the door with magic, refusing to let anyone else in. Women, children, men, and babies alike were screaming, crying, and shouting while the Death Eaters advanced with the leisurely and dangerous air of a pack of panthers, occasionally shooting spells and curses into the panicked crowd.

Salazar ran forward, pulling his dagger out of his sleeve. He quickly drew it across the palm of his hand, careful not to let it go to deep; it wouldn't do to pass out from blood loss. A drop of blood fell to the ground and, as others fell to join it, Salazar began the incantation.

_-I call upon thy elements of the Shadows_

_Protect thy innocents of this place_

_Help thee establish a barrier of Darkness_

_To defend thy people of the Light_

_Or of thy Darkness, if thou be innocent_

_Or thy lurkers of thy Shadows_

_To defend thee from harmful magicks_

_I call upon thou, Shadows of Darkness and Light_

_Protect us all!-_

An odd barrier, a dome of swirling black, purple, silver, gold, and white, flickered around the astonished shoppers and shopkeepers. Salazar surveyed the dome carefully. The incantation may have seemed a little long winded but there were other rituals that would go on for hours. This shield was large and didn't cost more than a little blood, though it was relatively short-lived. Of course, relatively was for real wars, where battles went on sometimes for months. The shield would last a couple hours and vanish, which was plenty of time.

The Death Eaters, who had stood in a sort of awed silence when the barrier came up, laughed, though Salazar could tell it was out of nerves. They started jeering but that was cut short when an idiot decided to try and use an Avada Kedavra on it. The shield absorbed it and the area where it was hit started swirling with the green light. The Death Eaters watched with trepidation as it swirled faster and faster, darkening the weak, pale curse to a deep, forest-ey shade of emerald. Suddenly it shot back towards its caster, quick as lightning. The caster dropped to the ground, dead along with three other Death Eaters standing around him.

Most of the Death Eaters looked ready to Apparate away but Lucius Malfoy's voice shouted from somewhere in the crowd,

"Get _him_ you idiots! He's not inside the barrier!" One would think that after such an impressive display of magic, the Death Eaters would be a bit hesitant to attack him but the Death Eaters ignored this piece of logic and surged forwards in a mass of black cloaks and white masks.

They were all around him in an instant but Salazar didn't seem to care. He had, in fact, predicted the move, for it was a highly predictable move indeed. He drew his sword. And then the Death Eaters attacked.

They fired curses, some of which he dodged, some of which fizzled out, and some of which he deflected with his sword but none of which hit their target. They, of course, didn't consider using Muggle fighting but instead surrounded him, firing off curses with the desperate hope that some would hit. None did.

The Death Eaters were getting nervous, especially those closest to Salazar. And then he struck, with the quickness of a snake, sword flashing and blood flying. Five were down before any of the others knew what was happening and ten more before they gave up with their spell casting and started running.

Salazar hunted them down easily (there was, after all, very few places to go) and, when they started Apparating away, set up anti-Apparation wards and toyed with them much as a cat would with a mouse. He didn't torture any (it just wasn't his style), at least not the painful way. He merely let them torture themselves with their own fear of death.

Salazar didn't even kill all of them. He wandlessly stunned quite a few (he had to give the wizarding world a chance to prove his innocence, after all) and had barely started tearing up their ranks when there was a disturbance; a skeletal man walking towards Salazar and the fleeing Death Eaters. A man with glowing red eyes.

"What," the man (if he could be called that) drawled with a decidedly snake-like voice, "is going on here?" Salazar abandoned his prey (leaving the young man in a trembling heap) and bounced over to Voldemort, his grim manner suddenly replaced by one of childish glee.

"Tommy!" He squealed, his eyes sparkling with mirth, "I'm so glad you could make it!" Salazar was distantly aware of the Order trying to break through his anti-Apparation wards (they couldn't get in because he had blocked off the Leaky Cauldron after Voldemort arrived).

"What did you just call me?" Voldemort hissed angrily, "You shall call me Lord Voldemort or nothing else!"

"But," Salazar started, his eyes wide, "Mummy said not to call you that. She said that I could call you Tom, Tommy, Tommy Boy, Voldie, Moldy Shorts, Moldy Warts, or The-Man-Who-Let-The-Boy-Live but she told be to never ever call you _that_." Of course the mummy stuff didn't really work with his outfit but it was fun anyways.

One of Voldemort's eyes twitched,

"My name is Lord Voldemort!"

"My mummy also told me never to lie," Salazar continued, "Didn't your mummy tell you never to lie? My mummy said that only Dark Lords are liars. She said that unless I wanted to be a Dark Lord I should never, ever lie. Is that how you became a Dark Lord?" Voldemort was becoming angrier every second and everybody else was too scared of Salazar to interrupt his absurd story.

"You have the nerve to mock me?" Voldemort was angrier than he had ever been, even when Potter had escaped his grasp for the fifth time. "_Crucio!_" But the curse never reached Salazar. It fizzled out even as it left Voldemort's wand as had so many others from various Death Eaters.

"You shouldn't have done that, Tommy," Salazar said in a sing-song voice.

"Oh and why not?" Voldemort asked haughtily, though he was internally unnerved.

"Because," Salazar said in an almost patronizing tone of voice, "I didn't like that. So if you do that, you'll make me upset. And if you make me upset, I'll be angry at you. And I have the ability to make your life hell. So…don't do that."

Voldemort was definitely unnerved now. Where was the Gryffindor defiance that his past challengers all seemed to poses? This one seemed absolutely Slytherin. Voldemort smirked. He could do Slytherin.

"What is your name?" He asked, carefully choosing a neutral question that bordered on friendly. This man could make a good ally if he played his cards right.

Salazar thought for a while,

"Cobra, I suppose."

"You suppose?" Voldemort asked. His voice had an oily quality and Salazar would have gagged had the situation not been so dangerous. And the situation was becoming rather serious. The barrier might have helped him neutralize the various dark curses but his magic wasn't infallible. It had very definite limits and he was reaching his dangerously fast; he had used up too much on flashy attacks. He'd already loosened his hold on the anti Apparation wards; a couple more unforgivables and he'd have only the energy to dodge.

"I didn't tell Dumbledore my real name and I certainly won't tell you," Salazar said.

"Dumbledore?" Voldemort hissed, "You're working for that old fool?"

"Of course not," Salazar said, "But I can still have a conversation with him." The Order members were starting to break through his anti-Apparation wards. A couple more minutes and he'd be forced to let them go, allowing most of the Death Eaters to get away.

"Then why don't you join me?" Voldemort's voice was oily again, greasy and slimy, "I could give you money, fame. Anything you want I could get for you."

"I don't think so," Salazar said, "I'm not one of 'em take over the world types. Thanks of the offer, though. It was really nice of you." The last part was added in a voice almost as sugary sweet as Voldemort's was oily.

Voldemort was shocked. And angry. He wasn't used to being rejected like this. Occasionally there would be the Gryffindor who would shout 'I'll never join you!' but this was something completely different. He opened his mouth to say something (no doubt dramatic and angry) but was interrupted by the quiet (and sometimes not so quiet) pops of a couple hundred Aurors and Order members Apparating into the ally.

"Dumbledork!" Salazar shouted, childish amusement back in place, "I'm so glad to see you again! Now you can talk to Tommy because he's not talking to me. I think he's mad at me," he added the last part in a stage whisper. "Anyways, I have to go, mummy's calling me. Bye!" And with that he Slid away.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Had someone been looking at the cell of one Harry James Potter, they would be surprised to see, for just a split second, _two_ Harry Potters sitting in the cell. They would probably dismiss this as a trick of the light as, at a second glance, there would be only one. As it was, not one person had ever visited Harry's cell in Azkaban, not even to yell at him (save the guards, the human ones, who came by every week to check if any of the prisoners had died).

Salazar flopped onto his bed (which did not, in fact, resemble a bed so much as an uneven and highly dirty slab of stone) thoroughly exhausted. His magical reserves were completely depleted from such an exhausting battle. _If you could call that a battle_,he thought with a brief snort of laughter. Probably the only reason that he was so tired was that he had been making a large effort to be intimidating. Using flashy (not to mention unnecessary) spells was tiring, no doubt about that.

He had managed to save some energy by un-transfiguring _everything_ while he was sliding, while he was in the Between, the place between shadows that is often referred to as the Realm of Shadows by those who live there. The place that the Shadowalkers used to live. Changing the shape (and even nature) of things was always easier in the Between, maybe because there was more magic there or maybe because of the nature of shadows; Salazar didn't know. The fact that he did it all at once (for Lurking would have taken far too much energy at the time and, as he couldn't actually visit the Realm of Shadows for more time than it took to Slide, he had only the smallest amount of time to do it) was tiring, yes, but not as tiring as doing it outside of the Between.

Salazar tried to get comfortable on his bed (something he failed miserably at…Perhaps the floor would be a bit more comfortable?) and closed his eyes. He had no idea how long he would be out of it while his magic replenished his magical reserved. There were potions that could speed up the process to a matter of days but he had no access to any. Ah well, he was content, for now, to just let his body do it the natural way. He drifted off into sleep…

_Salazar Slytherin sat at his friend's bedside, emerald eyes watching his friend with concern. It had been almost a day since the battle, since the horrible news that his cousin, sweet little Ethelinda, had become one of _them_, one of those mockeries of Darkness that dare call themselves Dark Lords and Ladies. Salazar had no idea when his friend would wake; perhaps in an hour, perhaps a month. His friend might _never_ wake up, as the curse he had been hit by had not yet been identified. _

_It really was his fault this time. When he had thrown Godric down a flight of stairs (thankfully Hogwarts used her own magic too intervene and make sure the Founder wasn't hurt too badly) it had been purely accidental magic and, though he had blamed himself for months, Godric had gotten better and reassured him that it wasn't his fault (though a part of him still believed it was). This time Salazar had Apparated away when the others had needed him. He had run away and his friends had all been injured without his help. _

_Helga and Rowena had, luckily, had managed to avoid major injuries and the few curses that had managed to hit them had fairly simple counter-curses. Although both managed to maintain relatively good health, neither had managed to regain consciousness so far. Not that Salazar had been expecting anything else; his friends needed their rest to help speed along the healing process._

_Gentle Helga had the gift to look at all sides of a debate without judgment, while wise Rowena knew appearances were deceiving and judgment often too quick. While not entirely confident, he felt sure that they, at least, would hear him out before making a decision and so he sat by the bed of the third friend, wondering if this was the right choice. Should he give Godric time to think before seeing him? Godric was well-known for his bravery and expected others to be brave, to – indeed, in his presence, most were. How had he taken it when his own friend had fled the battle, though for reasons that he had not yet known?_

_Salazar glanced back at his friend in concern then froze; his friend's eyes were open. _Too soon, too soon, too soon!_ His brain rambled frantically. He wasn't ready for a confrontation. And then all thought seemed to flee his mind in panic. _

"_Godric," he said, and then hesitated, "I…Are you feeling all right? Do you need something? Should I call a healer?" _

_But his friend's eyes were wild, feverish,_

"_Traitor!" He croaked; his throat raw from shouts during the battle, "I should have known you weren't to be trusted. What's the matter, Snake, battle too harsh on you? Coward! Filthy rat!"_

_Salazar's eyes narrowed. The curse might have influenced his friend to say such things, but he would have been able to tell had they not been meant and thought before. So…this was how his friends thought of him behind his back? Fine, then, so be it!_

"_You are not well," he said, neutrally, "Or you would have known I'm a snake, not a rat. Cats may take it upon themselves to chase off or kill rats but snakes are masterful hunters and rats, their pray. Don't get the two of them confused."_

"_Leave!"_

"_I won't. I have every right to be here as much as you. You aren't the only person here injured and you most certainly aren't the only person whose bedside I plan to stay at."_

_Godric gave a harsh laugh,_

_  
"Leave! Not just the Hospital Wing, either! Leave Hogwarts and never come back!"_

_Salazar looked at his friend, refused to glare or let any sign of hurt or any other emotion show in his eyes,_

"_You have no right. This place is as much mine as yours."_

"_They gave me a right, Helga and Rowena. They suspected you, just as I did. They wanted you out if you ever did anything that endangered the school." Hogwarts, the very magic in the air that gave the castle a touch of awareness, seemed to pulse slightly, to support the truth behind the words. So it was true, then. An empty, hollow sensation seemed to settle in his stomach. So his friends had been wary of him, had even plotted against him._

_The healer in charge of the Hospital Wing during Helga's absence (well she was there, right in the Hospital Wing, but unconscious and therefore unable to do her job) came bustling over,_

"_Oh dear, oh dear!" the small witch squeaked, "Lord Slytherin! Why did you not tell me earlier that Lord Gryffindor was awake?"_

_Salazar finally snapped,_

"_Because third best in the country or not, _I_ am the most experienced person in this ward and therefore _I_ don't have to call you over until _I_ finish examining his symptoms unless _I_ find in necessary to do so!" He inwardly scoffed. He hardly believed the old fool to be among the top hundred, rather than the top three. He distrusted the government to supply them with decent healers and had not yet been proven wrong._

"_Picking on defenseless girls now, Snake?" Godric spat._

"_Oh I'm so sorry _Lord_ Gryffindor," Salazar did not soften his tone when speaking to his friend, "I hadn't realized you were so _delicate_." He sneered, "I'm sorry, am I disturbing you? Wouldn't want that; your body might not be able to handle the stress."_

"_Get out of my sight, Snake! And out of the school!"_

"_Won't you even give me time to gather my belongings?" Salazar's tone was mocking, "Or are you going to kick me out without any cloths or money?"_

_Godric looked like he was seriously considering the latter option,_

"_You have three hours," he said, somewhat reluctantly._

"_Thank you, _Lord_ Gryffindor. You're so _generous_!" His manner was still mocking and his voice was oozing sarcasm. He turned and stalked out of the Hospital Wing, robes billowing behind him in a show of anger only Slytherins had ever mastered._

_In the safety of the dungeons, however, he let his mask drop. There was no way out of this. Salazar could feel the wards tightening around him; could feel Hogwarts' frantic confusion. He couldn't wait around and hope Godric would come to his senses. He wasn't even sure if he would accept any apologies from the other founders. And so he gathered his belongings and left the school, never once turning back._

Salazar woke up in his small little cell as the dream loosened its hold on him. He scowled and decided to brew himself some dreamless sleep potion. After all, who needed dementors when your own dreams haunted you with memories?

He frowned and tried to think about something else. Now, what could he do? He'd love to get back to Hogwarts but how? He would continue fighting Voldemort; that was already decided. And he would need to be better prepared for fights in the future…Cobra would make them all look like fools – Voldemort, the Order, the Ministry, and the whole Wizarding world. How…Well, the use of Muggle weapons would be a good start. Alliances with 'Dark' creatures would also be a good idea, if he could manage. And proving Harry Potter innocent…Oh yes, he could do that. He knew where to look, after all. And the other founders…

Salazar started to plot and there was no better plotter than Salazar Slytherin. Why had planned out countless strategies, for both war and pranks? He was beginning to see the outline of something; a wonderful way to dance circles around everybody. A way to test the waters wonderfully risk-free. Oh yes, he would make everybody look like fools.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

I really can't write a good battle scene…but it wasn't that bad…I think. Feel free to tell me what you think of it (yet another attempt to gain more reviewers). And a silly little confrontation with Voldemort…I was sort of sugar-high when I wrote that…

So, some silly-ness and some angsty-ness. That's what comes from having four different muses with different personalities. I think this story is going to be mostly silly and less angst. I'm also starting to plan out another fic. Yes, another Salazar!Harry. Methinks I may be a liiiittle obsessed. But this may be the last one; there are only so many banishments and endings that I can plot out, especially since all of them have the same underlying plot. And yes, I'm implying that I plan to finish all three. Don't know how long it'll take me, though…

Please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please review?


	4. Of Aftermaths and Werewolves

_Why is Harry now "Salazar"; it's like Salazar just took over?_

_Harry's lives fused together so he's really not one or the other. Mostly I chose Salazar because I used Harry in my other fic - and that he had several different identities at one point and I couldn't decide which to use. I decided to try and prevent that from happening. But, while this is my primary reason, I do have others. So much of Harry's life has been manipulated by others, primarily Dumbledore but also the rest of the wizarding world. They forced them into the mask of their savior, never giving him a say in the matter, and used him as their scapegoat. Salazar's life was at least partially free of masks and so I think that his name would be the one that is connected more to himself; his opinions, his ideas, his skills...just as they are without other people's interference. He still has his memories of Harry and nobody killed him (in a way, it was the wizarding world that killed him - shattering the masks they forced upon him). I hope this was a satisfactory answer and I _will_ try and show more of his Harry-like tendencies. _

_Who are the reincarnations of Helga Hufflepuff and Godric Gryffindor?_

_For Godric I'll say that he's the same here as in Dark Angel but you find it out anyhow in the very beginning of this chapter. For Helga I'm only 98 positive so I won't answer that yet. Have to keep some mystery in here, after all. You should find out within the next couple chapters._

_Is this going to be slash (male/male pairing)?_

_Three people have asked this: one for, one against, and one neutral. I myself am neutral so I'd like everybody's opinion - I do have one part of the story that can be either. Harry won't be paired with anybody and there won't be more than a brief mention of the pairing. So are you totally against it? Neutral? Totally for it? _

_Why was Lord Gryffindor so mean to Salazar?_

_The reasons behind the betrayal of Salazar's friends are explained in the beginning of this chapter. You shouldn't make assumptions on hearing just one side of the story._

_Take all the annoying chat stuff out of your chapters...It's against the ffnet guidelines to put anything but story content in the chapters...thx...If you are a chatty bird I would suggest email or IRC...these are both common tools chatty ppl use._

_Thank you for the warning. I needed to go look up the rules again anyhow. It says, "The chapter system is not to be used as placeholder for non-story content such as author notes. You can add short author notes to the beginning or at the end of stories but never as individual chapters." I try to keep my author notes short and I use them to explain to the reader what I think they should know. In some places (particularly at the end of chapters) I put more chatty stuff but often telling things like what I thought the quality of the chapter was or a just a little note. These at the top, the answers to questions, I think are important because I prefer that reviewers don't ask the same questions over and over and it's much simpler for everyone if people can see what questions have been answered. I consider them part of the story. I am, however, considering starting a Yahoo group for discussion – once I think up a name._

Other questions asked were too vague, gave away too much of the plot, or are things that I don't know myself yet.

Disclaimer: I own nothing at all; least of all Harry Potter or something awesome like that.

:Mindspeech:

-Parseltongue-

**Chapter Three: Of Aftermaths and Werewolves**

_Someone was crying, sobbing hysterically. What was the matter? He tried to open his eyes but they seemed so heavy..._Go back to sleep, _a voice whispered in his mind, _Just sleep through it._ The weight of his eyelids suddenly seemed a thousand times heavier._

No, _another part of his mind thought, _why should I? Someone's upset; I should see what's the matter. I won't run...away...from...anything. _Why did the words "run away" strike a particular chord inside him? What had happened? Why was his mind so fuzzy? Why couldn't he think strait? What was this odd, echoing voice in his head...was it...feminine? Why couldn't he open his eyes?_

_At his last question he could to something about. _Open_, he commanded mentally as he attempted to open his eyes. He frowned when nothing happened._

Sleep_, the voice whispered once again, seeming annoyed at his persistence, _Go to sleep...There's no need to worry...Just forget...and sleep...

No! _And this time his own voice was stronger. _I won't! _He struggled to open his eyes, concentrated on how much he wanted to see what was going on, wanted to know who was crying. His magic built up, wrapping around him, subconsciously struggling against the intrusion. _

_The voice hissed, seemingly in pain and seemed to withdraw. He relaxed but his magic didn't, sensing what he could not - the tiniest thread of mindmagic left behind in his mind. Again the voice hissed, an odd, whimpering pain, and this time, it withdrew fully. _

_Godric opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was white; tons and tons of it. He knew where he must be - the only place with this excessive an amount of sheer whiteness was the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts. What was he doing here? _

_He managed to turn his head a little and his vision blurred viciously. When it cleared he could see Rowena, sitting by his bed, eyes red and cheeks tear-stained. _

_"Re'na?" Godric croaked. Just beyond her he could see Helga, surprisingly calmer, though she had always been the one with a level head throughout any situation - her and Salazar. _

_"Godric, you're awake!" Rowena looked up, eyes still brimming with tears but a small smile of relief adorning her lips._

_He heard the slap before he felt it. Godric blinked, confused as to what force had pushed his face to the side until it dawned on him. Rowena, in a move so swift that he hadn't had time to register it in his confused state, had slapped him! Rowena, the aloof enchantress, seemingly above physical contact such as hits and hugs!_

_"You fool!" She shouted, "You idiot! Salazar has left the school and it's all your fault!" She sat there, hiccoughing, for a minute._

_"Now, now, Rowena," Helga said gently, "Let's not act rashly. Let's see what Godric has to say for himself." Godric was confused. In fact, he was way beyond confused. He seemed to have trouble registering words properly. Salazar...left? What had happened?_

_Helga seemed to be looking at him intently, though her eyes were slightly unfocused,_

_"See, look here," She said, jabbing at a spot near his head, "Some sort of mindmagic has been worked on him. He probably hasn't a clue what he did or even what we're saying right now. Don't you remember the other kids from the orphanages? They hadn't a clue about most essential magics. It's a miracle that these two have survived this long...Long enough to be able to explore magics on their own and learn a fair amount. Godric probably never felt the need to cover mindmagics."_

_"I'm not sure it was luck," Rowena said, frowning, "Didn't you feel as if Salazar knew some whenever you were around him, perhaps even more than you?"_

_Helga thought for a minute, Rowena's thoughtful frown mirrored on her face,_

_"Not really...But you're mindmagic is more sensitive than mine...And now that you mention it..."_

_"Oh, he was subtle, alright. He must have learned it before the orphanage – those things they used to call magic schools - learned even enough to help protect Godric."_

_"But that's terribly advanced!" Helga exclaimed, "Not even I can...And he must have been..." She tried to do the math, frowned and shook her head. That couldn't be right. She tried again, but she kept coming back to the same numbers. _

_"He would have to have been ten, at the youngest," Rowena supplied grimly, "And that would be when he learned how to protect other people with his own magic. Normal people can spend their whole lifetimes and not come anywhere near."_

_"Oh come on," Helga said, "I know he's extremely strong magically - we all are - but to be able to do all that at that age...It's imposable."_

_"You didn't ever feel as if he was holding back? That he wasn't showing his full potential?"_

_"No..."_

_"Typical. Neither Hufflepuffs or Gryffindors are known for being able to read between the lines and sense things that are not shown."_

_"What's that supposed to mean?"_

_"What if I told you that Salazar wasn't completely devoted to your precious Light?"_

_"I'd tell you that's absurd. And since when has it been _my_ Light. We all serve the Light; we've fought wars for it!" Helga was looking at Rowena warily._

_"The last one of which he didn't want to...and didn't actually end up participating in. Did he ever have a choice?"_

_"There were a hundred opportunities to make us surrender. If he was Dark he would have taken one."_

_"Just because he isn't Light doesn't mean he serves _them_," and she put that same particular twist on the word that Salazar did, whenever he referred to the Dark, "And just because he's fighting our war for us doesn't mean he has to go all out. You've taught Slytherins as much as I have. Have you seen the way they act? It drives me mad; always hiding their potential, trying to gain the upper had, even though I'm there teacher. The only person who I've not seen them try to overthrow is Salazar. Maybe they see in him what you and Godric never have. But then again, you must have noticed it, even if you don't see it; too loyal for your own good. Why else would you have allowed Godric the power to overthrow Salazar if need be?"_

_"You're mistaken! That was a troubled time in the school; I was afraid it would crack under the pressure, all the houses turning against each other so badly, and Slytherin (the house, not Salazar) standing in the background, pulling all the strings just to see if they could, just to test out their new wings. It was a nightmare." Helga trailed off, ending in barely a whisper._

_"You do see it then! Salazar was the only person able to keep them under control! They're impulsive and barely know right from wrong, don't know love except for a vague notion, unlike your Hufflepuffs, who have been raised and nourished by it their whole life! With him gone...But we were going to hear Godric's side of the story. We know he's under some type of influence, can you remove it?" Her tone made it clear that she expected no more conversation on the subject._

_Helga tried anyway,_

_"But...How do you know all this?" _

_"Can you remove it?" Rowena repeated, ignoring Helga's question. _

_"Possibly..." Helga examined the magic again, this time more thoroughly, "Probably...Look, it's already broken here. It appears that Salazar's protective magic has helped again."_

_"Probably with a little help from Godric's own stubbornness and strength of will," Rowena said and they shared a smile._

_"A good __Argutiae__ charm should do it...Together on three?" Helga suggested. Rowena nodded and tried to find the spot that Helga had indicated earlier. "One...Two...Three!" Two bright flashes of silver-blue light, twin lights that didn't seem quite lights but an odd bending of the air around themselves, shot towards Godric._

_Godric shot upright, the numb feeling fleeing his mind, leaving behind just a sort of tired feeling. _

_"Rowena! Helga! What happened? What was that?" This time he saw the movement but it was too fast and too late to do anything about. With another loud _crack!_ Helga's hand, one that had healed more people that most people saw in a lifetime, shot out and struck him across his cheek._

_"Helga!" Rowena exclaimed as Godric gently touched his stinging cheeks. _

_"He probably doesn't even remember your slap," Helga stated calmly, "You and I both know that he has the power and resources to fight off the spell had he not at all agreed with what he's done."_

_"We both know that Godric can't abide cowards, people who run from battle. Even a sliver of doubt would have negated Sal's protection." She suddenly gave in to a fit of giggles._

_"What?" Helga asked, wondering what could possibly be funny about the situation._

_"Can you imagine the looks on the student's faces when they find out 'Lord Gryffindor' was beat up by a pair of girls? He'll have those marks for weeks," And indeed, a red hand print was beginning to form on each cheek._

_"Let them talk," Helga sniffed derisively, "It's the least he's deserved."_

_"What have I deserved?" Asked Godric, not appreciating being talked about as if he wasn't there. _

_They turned to look at him._

_"You mean you don't remember?" Helga asked, "Odd..." Rowena, too, was frowning. This didn't go along the lines of normal, offensive mindmagics._

_"Godric..." Rowena started. She paused, and switched to her more business-like, lecturing tone, "I'm not sure how much you remember. We recently left the school to defend Hogsmeade from an attack by the new Dark Lady. Salazar...He left. Just like that, apparated away back to the castle. We're not sure the reason...But...these people were on a whole new level. I suspect the only one of us that would be able to defeat even one of them would be Sal."_

_"Sal?" Godric tried to sort through the information given to him. Sal had run? But Sal wasn't afraid of anything! "Why do you think Sal would be better than any of us? He's as strong as any of us, sure...Probably stronger, but all of together should be better than us...Right?"_

_Helga and Rowena looked at each other._

_"Sal knows probably more about these new Dark Magic users – I believe they call themselves Death's Children - than all of us put together...Why do you think he fled?" Rowena explained._

_"Has Sal ever mentioned his childhood before the orphanage to you?" Helga asked._

_Godric frowned,_

_"Not really...Why?"_

_"Rowena thinks Sal might not be exactly...Light." Helga explained._

_Godric gave them an odd look,_

_"Well, of course. He never told you?" At the other two's puzzled looks he clarified, "Sal was raised by his mom...She wasn't exactly Light and she was the one who taught him magic. She was murdered by her muggle husband when he was just ten. What of it?"_

_"Godric..." Helga started; she seemed shocked about the calm way he had rattled of Sal's horrible past. But then again, he had probably seen worse at the orphanage, "Being Dark isn't exactly...Respected."_

_"Anyways, we're off topic." Rowena cut in. They could have discussions about the Light and the Dark later. "These "Death's Children" know types of magic that even the last Dark Lord didn't use. Forbidden magic, definitely Dark by definition. There were three spells in particular that I didn't recognize. The red one brought excruciating agony to whomever it hit - Helga and I being the most heavily targeted by it. There was also another, a mindmagic, barely visible but pale blue that forced our own people against each us. And then there was the third one..." Rowena shuddered, seemingly incapable of forming the words._

_"The color of Sal's eyes," Godric whispered, "the one that reeked of death."_

_"You were hit with the mindmagic," Rowena explained, "After being under the pain one for a brutal length of time. You passed out; I think it's some sort of safety measure in your own mindmagics. You awoke later, under the influence of the spell, and banished Sal from the school."_

_Godric's eyes were wide, his head shaking in denial,_

_"I didn't! I promised I would never use that! I wouldn't have!"_

_"You were weak from the torture and perhaps a bit mad at Salazar for leaving us in that situation. You didn't have a chance against the mindmagic." Rowena explained patiently, "Whether you choose to believe it or not, Sal has left the school."_

_"Then I'll find him!" Godric exclaimed, "I'll find him and apologize to him and beg him to come back. Without him..." he shuddered, "I don't know how we'd cope. The Slytherins need looking after and...I don't know what I'd do without Sal." He fought to stand up, but he stumbled and Helga forced him back into bed._

_"Don't be hasty," She told him, "Sal's already gone. You need rest and a couple more hours wouldn't make the situation any worse. Rowena and I will start searching, all right?" Rowena nodded in agreement behind her. "You'll only hinder us in your state."_

_Godric nodded reluctantly, knowing the truth behind her words. He lay back down, tired but unwilling to sleep. Within seconds, however, he was half asleep._

_Rowena stood up,_

_"Well, there's nothing more to do here. I'm off to the library to gather some spell books...and then I shall try a few spells to find him. I don't expect any to work, though," Her eyes were sad._

_"Do you think we'll ever be able to find Sal?" Helga asked in a small voice and Rowena looked back at her friend. Despite all they had been through, Helga was still as innocent as a small child and sometimes twice as naïve._

_"I hope so," She answered, and walked across the room. At the door she paused and, without turning back, said, __"My ravens...sometimes I get one that even I can't help...Salazar always gets to them in the end...Without him the suicide rates would have tripled."_

_"Suicide rates?" Helga asked, appalled, "there have been no suicides!"_

_"David Corbin, threw himself off of the astronomy tower – thus causing it to be banned outside of classes; Phoebe Arden hung herself by the banister of the third staircase on the fifth floor – later safety limits and animation spells were put on the staircase to prevent anyone from falling off, a good thing to, as Salazar proved three weeks later; Felna Harding drank poison – there are no ways to prevent this, as potions class is important and many of the ingredients needed are poisonous. Two Ravenclaws and a Gryffindor, all three could have been prevented if Sal spotted it or someone informed him. I believe he has a group if his Slytherins on the lookout for such things nowadays," She rattled the list off calmly, but Helga could hear the pain in her voice, could practically see the sadness radiating from her friend's eyes, though she couldn't see them. Helga could understand; she couldn't imagine loosing one of her own Hufflepuffs._

_"But if Sal could have helped them, why weren't they put in Slytherin?" Helga asked. She knew the spells on the Sorting Hat as well as the other founders._

_"The Sorting Hat usually puts the ones in need of help in Slytherin, but situations change. Sal did his best...And now he's gone." And she left the hospital wing, leaving Helga behind her, mouth agape and mind filled with information that could shatter her perfect, orderly world. And Godric, half asleep but absorbing enough of the conversation that he could replay it in his mind later._

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Professor Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin House and Potions Master of Hogwarts glanced over at his godson and apprentice, Draco Malfoy, an expression remarkably like worry on his normally expressionless face. He was doing it again. His godson had been acting exceptionally strange, ever since his eighteenth birthday, when the boy had barged into his private chambers, stating quite loudly that he needed to speak to Harry Potter at once. He seemed disoriented and it had taken several minutes for Severus to remind his godson that Potter had been sent to Azkaban for life, and even with his remarkable connections it would be near impossible to visit him even with a good excuse. The boy had probably lost whatever questionable sanity that he possessed, having been locked up in the place for nearly three years. Even Black had been borderline sanity by this point, according to the records.

Snape sneered at the reminder of two of the most hated (by him at least) people that he had ever met - three actually, as thoughts of the Boy-Who-Lived always brought to mind his greatest humiliations at the hands of James Potter. He sneered again at the title, and even in his thoughts everything about the boy was mocking. Boy-Who-Lived! Pah! What was so special about living? The only people who cherished life were the dead!

But Potter and Black were dead now and the other Potter in Azkaban. Pettigrew had joined the Dark side and Lupin could barely do anything through his grief. They were all gone, the group that had called themselves the Marauders. Life should be peaceful without them to torment him...then why did he feel so restless?

Draco started awake and looked around the room, bleary-eyed. Again, he seemed disoriented and looked around the room as if he couldn't seem to find anything he recognized. Snape hated to admit it but at that moment he was scared for his godson. What had happened to make him this way? Finally his eyes alighted on Snape and his eyes brightened a little with recognition and relief.

"You make a good Slytherin Head," Draco mumbled. He blinked blearily and shook himself awake. At last he seemed to know where he was, "Sorry, did I miss anything?"

"Are you feeling all right, Draco? Maybe you should have Madame Pomfrey take a look at you."

"No, no, I'm perfectly fine." Draco insisted.

"Then maybe you should go to bed. It's getting late and you look exhausted."

"I'm not tired!" He sounded slightly petulant, like a small kid being put to bed. Snape noticed that his godson was barely able to bite back a yawn, a sure sign for a Slytherin to do something so revealing of his state of mind. "Well, maybe just a little." At Snape's raised eyebrow he gave in, "Fine, I'm going to bed, already!"

He got up to leave but at the door he stopped and looked back, unconsciously mirroring Rowena's movement,

"The world's ruled by irony, isn't it, Sev?"

"What's brought this on?" Snape asked, taken aback. Draco was always cheerful for a Slytherin, so much so that he had often doubted whether Slytherin really was the right house for his godson.

"Just a dream," Draco said vaguely, and drifted out of the room, back towards his own chambers.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Terra Lyall ran through the forest near her pack's small camp-like village. Any bigger and the ministry could forcibly kick them out of their home, as had happened before too many times to count. Werewolves had no rights, after all. No lawyer was willing to take a werewolf's case and, in their impoverished state, books on law were a futile hope, even in dreams.

She came to here destination, a beautiful lake that gave a good view of castle looming above the treetops, made small by distance. They had checked the castle for signs of inhabitance and found none before settling in, but Terra had seen a young man, perhaps in his late teens, several times while visiting the lake to fish and sketch the lake and distant castle. She had even managed to talk to him a few times, though briefly. This time Terra had brought food in hopes of luring him out. She had only been bitten recently, and she was treated as a child by most of the other members of her pack and resented this – she was twenty-six and proud of it. Brief though they were, she savored her conversations with the elusive boy.

"Come out!" Terra called, once she had her lunch spread out, "I've brought food enough to share."

"Trying to bribe me?" an amused voice asked from behind her. She shrieked and jumped to her feet, whirling around to come face to face with the mysterious boy. She put her hand over her heart; could feel it pounding. How had he done it? Novice though she was, nobody could sneak up on a werewolf undetected but another werewolf. And they could sense their own; this boy wasn't a werewolf. But she had never seen him up close before and took the opportunity to study him carefully.

Slightly long black hair and blue eyes and wearing black from head to toes; the boy looked nothing out of the ordinary, apart from the fact that he could probably use a little brighter clothing. Here werewolf instincts stirred, causing her to look a little closer. She frowned; though they were in the middle of a forest she saw not a speck of dirt on him, or even a scratch from a stray branch. He couldn't have come from far but the nearest buildings were the little huts in the village and the castle.

"Is that your house?" She asked, waving her arm in the direction of the castle, while sinking back down to the ground.

"No…this whole forest is open to anyone in need of a place to stay. Your pack is just one group out of many of the numerous creatures shunned from society."

Terra was instantly on her guard. Not many could calmly have a conversation with werewolves, Hunters among them. The Elders were constantly warning the little ones about them, those who hunted "Dark Creatures" for money. Some people were willing to pay a lot for various parts of werewolves, vampires, or even veela.

"No need to get touchy, miss, I'm an outcast of society just like you and your pack. Now…you said something about food? I haven't eaten since yesterday." Terra tried not to let down her guard but there was something about this strange boy that made her want to trust him, to help him. The wolf inside of her howled out a warning but this new feeling seemed to drown it out.

"I…Yes, I've got some. We don't get much food down in the village, mind, so I couldn't bring much. I've brought half a chicken and some fruit." Terra said, feeling strangely self-conscious.

"That'll be great," he suddenly cocked his head as if listening to something that even she couldn't her, "On second thought, I've got to go. I'll probably be able to find something to eat later."

"At least take some chicken with you!" Terra said scrambling to her feet.

"Oh, no, I couldn't…"

"Please? I must insist!"

Finally he accepted the scraps of chicken she was trying to force into his hands. He had turned as if to leave when she called,

"Wait!" He paused and looked back, "At least let me know your name?"

"I'm Sali. Sali Azar Slythurn." With a smile, he turned around and vanished.

Terra blinked. How had he done that? There were anti-apparation wards all around the forest, as several elders had figured out, nearly splinching themselves in the process. Who _was_ he, really? She knew his name, but that barely scratched the surface. What had come over her to make her behave that way around him? The wolf inside her scolded her as if she was a pup, in a series of growls she could not understand.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Salazar Slid back to the castle, extremely pleased in how everything was going. He did feel a little guilty about taking the food, though. Werewolves had certain scents that marked others as their mates or part of their pack. He had been able to duplicate that scent, though more subtly. He hadn't expected it to work so well, maybe too well, but he needed to test it.

Of all the people that had turned on Harry, he had been the most hurt by Remus Lupin. He had never really believed in Ron, quick to anger and quick to judge others, or Hermione, who considered the facts, even if she had only part of the information. Remus, however, he had respected; as a friend, as a professor, and as one of his father's friends. Who better to hear the reason from than the man himself?

He was also eager to discover who had not betrayed him. Though publicly there were none, he was sure there were at least a couple people unsure about whether they had done the right thing. And if not…There was no reason to save them from Voldemort, it was as simple as that.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

How did I do keeping Severus in character? I really am trying in this story…

How did you like the memory? Good? Bad? Okay?

Terra's an OC (original character) but not a Mary-Sue in any way, shape, or form (I hope).

Note: Sali Azar Slythurn is pronounced Sa (as in Saw)-lee A–za-r Sly (as in Sly rather than Slytherin)–th-run.

Reviewers are awesome. They make me happy…And a happy author updates quicker. So…Review?


	5. Of Confusions and Frustrations

Um…Hello everyone, it's been a while? (Ducks rotten foodstuffs) Okay, so it has been a while since I last updated…And it will probably be another while after this before I update again. This story, Tainted Betrayal was done slightly out of order and certain parts had to be redone so it was a pretty big mess and Dark Angel is just sitting there awaiting another burst of inspiration. I know what'll happen but it just won't come out so…I'll try and put out another chapter soon but I don't know when that'll happen.

Stuff happened. Life was tough. But not that tough. Not at all, really. Mostly, I was lazy. There's something about summer vacation that makes you want to sit around and do nothing but read. Of course, I hadn't updated for a while before that. Mostly, I couldn't write Harry Potter. Seriously, that part of my brain just shut off. Couldn't even read it. I have about 180 emails worth of updates sitting in my inbox…Unfortunately what caused this sudden burst of inspiration was my dad getting mad at me and shutting the internet off and limiting what I'm allowed to do. So now I'm trying my best to update this and Dark Angel. Not sure if my third fic is ever happening, though.

I'll shut up now. You can go read now.

_About the Slash…_

_Well, one point…**Harry is not being paired with anybody!** I thought I'd mentioned it at least once before but anyways, I just wanted to clear that up. I was thinking about how you'd react to a male/male pairing with other characters. Anyways, it doesn't matter now, I'm not sure if I'm going to pair up anybody…_

_Is Draco Malfoy Godric Gryffindor? What about Helga? Is Terra Helga?_

_Yes, for those that are confused, Draco is Godric. For Helga you'll have to wait and see. No, Terra isn't Helga, she's just an original character._

_Okay, so who betrayed him?_

_Well, a large chunk of the wizarding world betrayed Harry by believing him guilty, especially Harry's friends. In the founder's time, Rowena, Helga, and Godric betrayed Salazar, though their reasons were explained in the previous chapter._

_How does he (Draco) know that Harry is Sal? Sal doesn't know that Draco is Godric, does he? Or would he even care?_

_Well, it would be pretty obvious that Harry is Sal; they look exactly like each other. By now or sometime in the next couple of chapters Harry has already learned Draco was Godric. I won't show it but the knowledge has to be there for the plan to work; otherwise he wouldn't really care._

Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter.

:Mindspeech:

-Parseltongue-

**Chapter Four: Of Confusions and Frustrations **

"Hello!" Cobra cooed in a voice that most reserved for talking to babies and little fluffy animals.

Needless to say, the three death eaters he had cornered were scared out of their wits. The large, emerald-colored snake that was wrapped around Cobra's shoulders hissed and flicked its tongue disdainfully at Voldemort's followers.

"Oh now, don't be that way!" Cobra continued merrily, "I just wanted to ask you a few questions!"

The small group of Voldemort's followers looked at each other, silent and unsure. They knew better to expect mercy from an enemy (look what they did to those who begged mercy from them) but the 'light' side was supposed to be above such things. Then again, this man was hardly working for Dumbledore.

"Now," Cobra continued in his cheerful voice, "Which one of you is highest in rank?"

The Death Eaters looked at each other again. Inside Cobra was getting impatient; he knew that he didn't have much more time before Voldemort came and Dumbledore's Order soon after him. And Voldemort would take his full attention; it wouldn't do to underestimate a Slytherin, even such a warped, twisted one. But it seemed that he needn't have worried, reaching some unspoken decision, two of the Death Eaters pushed the third unceremoniously forward. Hey, if it saved their own skins; Death Eaters had no loyalty among them.

The leading Death Eater gave an outraged gasp and Cobra could tell by her voice (and figure) that she was a female – and proud of it. Cobra instantly paid closer attention to the group in front of him. Not Lestrange (Voldemort wouldn't waste such a high-ranking Death Eater on such a small raid as this) and there were few females that participated so openly in Voldemort's activities, as Cobra knew from Harry's visions. Death Eaters were just sexist that way. So this girl might be…

With a casual wave of his hand, the two lower-ranking Death Eaters were out cold and, turning back to the higher-ranked female and narrowing his eyes slightly, he dove into her mind. Just a couple seconds later he was out of it again, wearing a satisfied smirk at what he had found. The female, dazed by his rough handing of her mind, fell to the ground unconscious and, as a precaution, he went through the minds of the two other, still unconscious, Death Eaters, but found nothing that he didn't already know.

A muffled hissing pulled his attention back to the entrance of the ally he stood in. Cobra's smirk widened and an almost predatory light seemed to gleam in his eye as he saw the second good thing to happen that day (to him, at least). Two out of three. Not bad at all. He was bound to get lucky some day but he had expected to have to wait a bit longer. He glanced fondly at the serpent slithering towards him, this one silver rather than the bright emerald green one wrapped around his shoulders (he hadn't been able to resist when he saw the pair in a pet store in Knockturn Alley), a rat, paralyzed with fear, trapped in it's jaws. A rat with a silver paw.

Those two would be more than enough to set his plan in motion; all he needed now was to take down Bellatrix Lestrange and he would be set to take down Voldemort worry-free. It wouldn't do to let the man (if you could call him that) ruin Slytherin House's already-soiled reputation. All that mattered was deciding how much the wizarding world deserved to suffer first (Cobra would make sure that no attacks to the muggle world would be successful). You could, after all, always trust a Slytherin to extract as much revenge that he or she felt the offending party deserved.

Cobra roughly grabbed the female Death Eater and, while the silver snake wrapped around her, he yanked a necklace over her head, not caring if he hurt her as long as it didn't kill her (and it wouldn't, the silver snake would be able to easily see to that). From here on, today would be a race against time to be in several places at once. And not just today…the game could go on for months. But he would _not_ loose. After all, he was the one setting the stage. And, of course, he had a plan (several, in fact).

-Activate; manor,- He hissed and one of the five Portkeys he carried around with him, the stone on the necklace that he had put on the Death Eater, activated, whooshing the Death Eater, snake, and rat away. Voldemort would come soon. Even if he had not already been alerted by the Death Eaters that Cobra had allowed to escape, he would feel it through Her mark and come. It was too big a blow to his pride for him not to.

Cobra smirked, feeling Voldemort appear behind him. Some could argue that facing Voldemort with the little magic he had currently was rather stupid and he would normally agree but it was too much fun not to publicly humiliate the Dark Lord, even though they were in some little-traveled, little-known ally near Rafendest, a magical city known for its enchanters. Everyone who had been walking around earlier had taken refuge in the shops and buildings some time ago. The Order, however often popped in mid-battle and sometimes witnessed the (to him) humorous confrontations.

A killing curse sent at his back snapped him out of his thoughts. He ducked automatically and it hit a brick wall, fizzling out harmlessly.

"That wasn't very nice, Tommy, I was trying to think," Cobra said, frowning, as he tuned to face his attacker.

He would win.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

_Salazar looked at the glowing stone in front of him and sighed, Godric's words once again echoed in his mind and he didn't have the strength to fight them anymore. He had one more hour to 'claim his possessions', one more hour left in Hogwarts. The truth was, he didn't have anything that he wanted to bring with him. Everything belonged with Hogwarts. Maybe some day a student would find them and make use of them but for now…The dangerous rooms were sealed off with Parseltongue. Hogwarts had nothing left to offer to him; no joys, no sorrows. It was just the bleak, empty nothingness that made up his future. He had no possessions and nowhere to go. He briefly thought about confronting his cousin, maybe he could find out about some unknown spell that had allowed her to control Godric so completely. Maybe all hope was not yet lost. And if not, he did not mind dying in battle. Or killing her. _

_But he would not leave the earth that way. He would not allow himself to be killed by one of _them_; he would die a peaceful death or defending the school, dammit, and nothing else. And he had no desire to live the half-life that awaited him away from the school._

_He continued to stare at the multicolored stone, now watching as it changed from a deep green to a flat grey to a dark red…It was a part of the school, his part of the 'core'. All the founders had one, a magical gem, hidden deep within their own part of the school where no one, not even the other founders, could get to them. It was to ensure that the school stayed safe against attack and no one but Salazar and Rowena knew how easily fallible they were. They had discussed it once, not long after the castle was built. Salazar had wanted to power them up somehow but Rowena had forbid him from trying. To try and give your magic to such an item would be far too dangerous. The slightest slip of control and the stones would continue to absorb your magic until everything you had to offer, your magic, life energy, and even your soul, would be sucked into it, disturbing your own soul's cycle of magic, life, and rebirth. In short it was beyond crazy and, yes, most definitely suicide. _

_And here he was, years latter, seriously considering something that Rowena had made him promise to never, ever do. _

_Was it worth it?_

_Was it not?_

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Draco had a headache. Harry Potter was Salazar Slytherin, there was no mistaking that (they looked too much like each other for it to be coincidence and he hadn't lived long enough to have children), but making it so that he and the other two founders could talk to the boy was proving extremely difficult. He was currently trying to talk to the people who believed in Harry's innocence. The problem was, most of them were smart enough to keep their opinions to themselves and the ones whose opinions were more commonly known were out of the country so they didn't have to face the reactions of the wizarding public to their 'betrayal'.

There was also the chance that Harry had not yet received memories of his past life, which could lead to a mess. And, of course, there was the possibility that they did manage to talk to Harry who had Salazar's memories but was driven mad by the dementors or wouldn't listen to any of them. It was fear of this last option that made him continue searching; trying harder to get things done faster.

And then there was this Cobra character. It sounded suspiciously like Salazar but Cobra had never shown up where he or one of the other founders happened to be; despite the fact that they were all Order members. In fact, they were the only ones that had yet to get a glimpse of the mysterious fighter. Even the newest Order member, a spy by the name of Damon Faunus, had seen the elusive fighter; even nearly gotten hexed by him if Faunus' story was to be believed. Without seeing him, there was no way for the founders to make even a guess at Cobra's identity and, anyways, Harry was locked up in Azkaban behind all sorts of wards, not that Draco had been allowed close enough to the place to check up on these alleged wards; no, a Death Eater's son would never be allowed near such a place without Dementors guarding him and the last of Salazar's protection had faded away with Godric's death. A couple seconds with them had him reliving Salazar's banishment and the months of despair afterwards. It wasn't something he could stand against with pure bravery, not that he hadn't tried to several times.

The list of people who believed Harry was alarmingly short. Alastor (Mad-eye) Moody, Nymphadora Tonks, and a handful of Weasleys were all he could get to join his group. He was looking into some others, mainly Remus Lupin, but his hopes weren't high. Lupin had made his opinion of his best friend's son well known during and after the trial and, anyways, he was off in some obscure forest trying to track down some werewolves. Draco had eventually managed to drag Snape into their group, though the older man had protested loudly and continuously at first.

With so little support it was very unlikely that he would be granted so much as a visit to Harry Potter's cell within the next couple of years. And time was something that he worried that he did not have.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"Aaah!" Bran Fiachra yelped rather loudly as he pitched forward, momentum bringing him towards the ground faster than his rather horrible reflexes could catch up with.

Just before he landed on his face a helping hand came swooping down, grabbing his left elbow with a yank that twisted his whole body sideways, postponing his inevitable fate and allowing him to remain unharmed; right arm dragging across the smooth, regularly spelled clean, floor. He looked up to see who had saved him and his face burned with shame.

"Auror Tonks!" He scrambled to his feet, bowing his head, unable to stop the blush from spreading across his cheeks at his embarrassment. That he had been saved by Nymphadora Tonks would be the talk of the Ministry for several days. After all, who would the clumsiest auror catch but the clumsiest ministry worker on record? The only one who had been booted out of basic defensive training on his first day for sheer clumsiness, despite his dream to become an auror, his last chance relying on passing that class? The laughingstock and disgrace (and often scapegoat) of the ministry?

"I told you, Bran, you don't have to use titles. It's just Tonks," the auror reminded him cheerfully, but she frowned, "Is something wrong? You look a bit down."

"No, no; I'm fine," Bran reassured her. She had taken pity on his clumsiness and crushed dreams and had become something of a friend to him. Bran hated it. Tonks was nice and all but he didn't want a friend out of pity.

"It doesn't look that way. Now spill, what's got you so upset? You're clumsier than usual and that's saying something." Typical tactless Tonks.

He frowned at her,

"I'm fine!"

"No, you're not!" She squinted down the way he had come, "That's Fud…The minister's office, isn't it? What happened…You're job…"

"I've been _promoted_," Bran spat bitterly.

Tonks blinked,

"Well, that's good then…"

"Yes, it is, isn't it?" But the bitter tone didn't fade, "Congratulations, I've now been promoted to the ministry's official scapegoat. Yay. Joy. Can't you just feel my excitement?"

"Surely it isn't…It's not like that…I mean…" Tonks didn't seem to know what to say to that statement, "I…What do you mean?"

"I'm now the minister's personal assistant and _honorable_ transcriber. Which means I'm to blame if he forgets something at home or looses an important paper. Not to mention, I have to be at his side every second, recording everything he and others around him say (during meetings, official partied the minister attends, and of course any trials he is forced to attend as well) and I'll be blamed if I don't tamper with it to make Fudge seem like a hero to the whole world. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going home. It's been a long day."

He pushed past her roughly and headed towards the elevators and jabbed angrily at the down button. It used to amuse him how the old-fashioned ministry would use something so…_Muggle_ as an elevator, complete with buttons, but now he was just annoyed. The elevator arrived and he got in, soon completely out of Tonks' sight, leaving her to stare bemusedly at the now-closed, gleaming elevator doors.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Cobra was practically flying as he ran around; trying to make sure that everything had been done. His two prisoners, Pettigrew and the girl, had to be taken care of, select memories removed and others enhanced, just in case. Then, of course was setting up the other part just right. He changed his face to that of an average-looking brown-haired, hazel-eyed man and pulled on a Death Eater's cloak and mask before yanking the hood and mask off so his face was clearly visible. He stopped in front of a mirror for a second to make sure that he looked disheveled enough, he grabbed a pinch of powder from a fancy box and tossed it into the fireplace. Shouting an address, he stuck his head in the suddenly-emerald flames.

"Dumbledore!" He gasped, as soon as he recognized the Order Headquarters, "You'd better come quick! Rafendest! He's attacking! Voldemort!" Cobra, now Damon Faunus, the Order's newest member (and now their only spy, which is why nobody realized that he didn't actually belong to Voldemort's army), sat back, with a panicked look, appreciating the sudden flurry of panic. "I've gotta go!" he shouted, "He's calling!" He pulled his head back out of the fire and paused to catch his breath.

"And what are you doing?" asked an all too cheerful and relaxed voice from the entrance.

Cobra glared half-heartedly at the wall in front of him, not even bothering to look and see who it was,

"All of _your_ dirty work."

"Your bitter words pierce my heart," the other voice said dramatically, "Really." He added unconvincingly when Cobra failed to look convinced.

"I have captured the Rat and the Traitor. Pissed off Voldie while I was at it. I have floo-called the Order and am ready to hand them over to Dumbledore."

"You never did tell me what you had to do to get them to trust you enough to join the Order," the voice from the doorway mused. Cobra scowled at the other's lack of response to the other news.

"Just a connection or two. I didn't have to do much."

"So they just let you into the Order?" The other sounded surprised, "Well, the quality has dropped since the last time I was there, it seems."

"They need all the help they can get," Cobra said smugly, "Especially spies, ever since Voldemort discovered Severus."

"He'll kill you if he knows you're referring to him by first name," the other voice warned, sounding slightly amused, "Anyways, are you sure you want to do this? Are we sure? We won't be able to keep a close eye on the others for a while…"

"It's all part of the plan and the lapse is only temporary," Cobra said, "And the whole point was to be neutral. I give Dumbles some information of Voldie and then make him think that I'm giving some information to Voldie. Keep 'em confused. Anyways, we've already set the plan into motion. There's no time for doubts."

"You're right. Anyway, need any help?"

"You just stay here and don't touch anything. Not a thing. Okay?"

"Aw man…and I just got back from 'work' too…" He could hear the attempted puppy-dog eyes, "Please?"

"No."

"You guys never let me do anything," the other person muttered, "Bunch of control freaks."

"We have good reasons. Now go sulk or something."

Harry Potter grinned at him from the doorway and walked off to do precisely that.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"_Godric…" Helga started, but sighed when she realized that her fellow founder wasn't listening to her._

_The other founder was quiet, determination mixed with an almost crazed sort of…energy…wrapped around the Gryffindor as he pulled on a dark red cloak. Still silent, he left through the large doors of the castle, setting off in search of his departed friend. He had been doing the same thing every night for over a year. The rest of the castle didn't take so long to adjust to Slytherin's absence. The Slytherins seemed prepared and strangely resigned to Sal's departure and elected their own Head of Slytherin. Though the original Founders had little to do with the graduated Slytherin, they allowed him to stay and teach and he remained polite to them, speaking for the other Slytherins if it was needed. Rowena could see a sort of hierarchy forming and was glad. Some of the other students celebrated, laughed, and jeered at Slytherins in general but were quickly shut up. Salazar had had students loyal to him in every house. _

_Hogwarts was quiet; eerily so. It was grimmer than the cheerful, bubbly school that it had been before. House rivalries were silent but tense, as if every meeting between members of different houses was a fight waiting to happen. Godric, after continued months of finding nothing on his friend, became obsessed with any news that might have been connected to him. The other two founders searched and grieved, looking desperately for any hint that could lead them to Salazar, through books and word-of-mouth but still, even after a year, there was nothing._

_And the castle remained that way for several more weeks until the dubious peace was shattered by an attack on the school by the Dark Lady. _

_Godric slashed through a curse with his sword, causing it to disappear, as he pressed forward towards the leader of the Dark wizards. For now she was their last remaining clue as to where Salazar had disappeared. Or at least they could figure out why she had put so much effort into making him do so. His eyes widened as a red curse (_the_ red curse, incidentally, also called the Cruciatus curse by some) got past his defenses and brushed his arm, sending pain throughout his whole body. _

"_Lovely curse, isn't it?" a voice hissed in his ear, causing him to swirl around, slashing his sword at whoever had gotten so close to him, but there was nothing there._

_The voice laughed, _

"_I invented it, you know. I invented them for a reason, too. Especially the one I used on you when we first met," Godric's eyes went wide as he realized who the owner of the voice was. "I wanted to use it on my dear cousin first but I'm afraid his mind magics were a little too advanced to risk it."_

"_Cousin?" Godric breathed._

"_The one you banished, you foolish boy," the Dark Lady taunted, "Or do you forget the one they called Salazar Slytherin?"_

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

The Order returned to their Headquarters, feeling triumphant. Never mind that the illusive 'Cobra' had done most of the work for them (and all before they arrived), they had managed to scare away the remaining Death Eaters and even managed to catch two (courtesy Damon Faunus but, as he was pretending to be a Death Eater at the time, nobody noticed) and now they were happily marching their captives back Headquarters to interrogate them. They wouldn't torture them, of course, (such _brutal_ and _effective_ methods were left to the Death Eaters, though in the Death Eaters' hands, torture wasn't an effective method at all, because, of course, all of the Order was unfailingly loyal to Dumbledore and would never reveal anything) and instead used Veritaserum (illegal, yes, but fail-proof…because it was Veritaserum, right, infallible in all it's super-potion glory).

Then came the unmasking, like children unwrapping their presents on Christmas in front of their parent's proud eyes. Everyone huddled around and made appropriate noises. The first was Pettigrew, which caused quite a commotion, and the second one was…

"Cho?" Ron squeaked, obviously puzzled why the girl he had been dating for months behind his wife's back was sitting there in a Death Eater's robes.

The girl was, of course, too drugged by the Veritaserum to reply more than a monotone 'yes'.

Hermione stared suspiciously at her husband for a second before turning back to the girl. Then came the questioning, the rowdy Order members shouting questions and accusations at the Death Eaters in front of them, as well as each other for good measure.

Damon zoned out halfway through the captured Death Eater's listing of all the crimes that they ever committed, everything that they knew of Voldemort's activities, and all the names of the Death Eaters that they knew (in no particular order and, yes, both at the same time for some unknown reason), from stealing a toy from a friend when they were three to helping Voldemort frame Harry to the fact that they knew that Damon Faunus was giving information to Voldemort directly from the Order.

The last two caused a sudden hush and, as they stared at each other and them at Damon, he leapt to his feet, making a wild run across the table for the fireplace. Dumbledore shot a spell at his back but Damon tripped and it missed and the various transfigured items hardly hindered him as he slid down the table. Several Order members attempted to grab him and Moody came fairly close, along with quite a few nasty hexes from the old auror and the Weasley twins but nothing hit him as he grabbed a pinch of Floo powder and dove, head-first, into the fireplace. His face being flat against the back of the fireplace, none of the Order could hear just what he said before he disappeared.

He fell out of the fireplace at the feet of a bemused Harry Potter, his muffled sniggers turning into howling laughter as he rolled, soot-stained and food-spattered on the smooth floor.

"I haven't had that much fun in ages!"

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"What is the meaning of this?" the man was angry, no doubt about it. Conall Silvia had every right to be angry, of course and Terra mentally cursed herself for daring to bring Sali to her small tent in the camp. It was a harmless visit, a celebration of Sali's birthday…Or at least it was supposed to be. She hadn't expected the pack leader to be hanging around her 'house', especially today of all days. Why, oh _why_, did it have to be the one day that she had invited a friend over, something that was forbidden amongst the pack?

"Silvia…I can explain…"

"What reason could you possibly have for bringing a _human_ into the camp? What were you thinking, you foolish girl! Were the last seventeen moves since your arrival too soft on you? Well, Miss Lyall?"

Terra couldn't seem to form a sentence properly. She just gaped for a moment and stared down at the floor in shame. There was silence for a minute before Sali cleared his throat pointedly. There was no malice in the sound, nothing to make Silvia react as he did. The head of the pack whirled around, snarling, in a defensive stance.

They stared at each other for a minute, some hidden, newfound malice seemed to make the air crackle with electricity…Or magic. Suddenly Silvia let out a growl and swiped at Sali. Nature had hardened the werewolf's softness, the ones typical to most humans; his nails were rough and jagged and would have hurt quite a lot, had it hit an ordinary human. Fortunately, Sali was not ordinary, nor did the attack ever reach him.

Terra didn't know what happened next. One moment Sali was there, in the path of the attack and the next…he wasn't. He was only standing a few feet further back but there seemed no movement involved…Had he moved quicker than she could see? Unlikely, she was a werewolf and with her heightened senses (sight, or the ability to detect the movement in the air around them…even hearing the fabric of Sal's robes rustle) she would have noticed such a move. Sali just stood there, cool and unruffled as ever. The shadows around him seemed to be…shifting agitatedly, curling protectively around Sali. Terra blinked and shook her head slightly. The shadows still seemed to be moving.

Silvia looked a bit thrown off by the sudden disappearance but otherwise unruffled, though underneath hostile manner changed to outright malice.

"Shadowalker." It was a statement, calm and colder than ice.

"Werewolf." Sali's reply was just as level but lacking the hatred that filled the other's voice.

"What brings you here, to werewolf territory?" The words were civil but the tone was not.

"Oh, just visiting a friend," Sali replied breezily, "We were going to have a little birthday party down by the lake but I was interested in seeing your little village. Werewolf civilization is much more interesting than all the human or vampire politics."

"I'd have thought you were much more interested in vampires…Close cousins and all. Why are you really here? Who are you; I thought the last of the shadowalkers died out centuries ago."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself. I'm Sali Azar Slythurn and as for your comment regarding shadowalkers…It is a common misconception but you are mistaken. Werewolves fascinate me because, unlike vampires, they have to try very hard to fit into wizarding society, simply because they are easier to detect. Wizards are idiots, as we probably both know."

"And what does a _Shadowalker_," Silvia spat the name, his voice full of hatred, "Want with us werewolves?"

"As I said before, I'm just visiting a friend." Sali said lightly. His open innocence and playful nature seemed to have the same effect on Silvia as it did on Terra; she could see his stone-hard mask of disdain and hatred erode away slowly with every word.

"Be gone from this camp. I shall let you off easy this time. But be warned: if I see you near any members of my pack or in our territory ever again, the consequences will be dire. Terra, come with me."

"Please don't punish her too harshly," Sali asked, "It was my fault, really." And he vanished. This time Terra could see the quickest flash of darkness as the shadows gathering around Sali's feet surged upward and vanished suddenly, taking Terra's friend with them. She stared at the place that he had been standing just moments before with awe-filled eyes.

Silvia turned to Terra,

"I don't want you talking with that boy ever again."

"Why not?" Terra asked, suddenly defiant, "He's my friend!"

"He's a Shadowalker!" Silvia spat.

"So what? And what exactly is a Shadowalker anyways?"

Silvia sighed,

"I'd forgotten that you were just recently bitten. You are a muggleborn, correct?

"What does it matter?" Terra asked defensively.

Silvia sighed again,

"Shadowalkers play a part in many wizarding folktales. As the antagonist."

"And there are many "big bad wolves" in Muggle literature. So what?"

"They're very closely related to vampires, who are werewolves' enemies by nature. Shadowalkers are said to have been extinct for hundreds of years."

"So the history books were wrong. Big deal. And he's not a vampire, is he? He's a Shadowalker, though you still haven't explained to me what they are."

"They are beings with the power to control shadows. As means of transportation, as weapons…the full range of their powers is unknown; they're a very secretive race. Werewolves have no better a history with them than we do with vampires. Do you think you know his face? Shadowalkers are shapeshifters; the face you know could be his or it could belong to somebody else…or it could simply be made up. You think he's your friend? Their feelings are as vague and fleeting as the shadows they control.

He is not to come back to this camp and you _will not_ meet with him anywhere else. It would be best for you to just forget about him. No good will come of continued contact between him and the pack."

But Sali continued coming to the camp, despite Silvia's warnings. In fact, neither Silvia nor Terra knew of it for several weeks. By the time Silvia found out about it, it was far too late to do anything; the whole camp had fallen in love with the boy. He was their favorite nephew or grandson or big brother and, had he even tried to say anything about getting rid of the boy, Silvia was sure that the whole camp would revolt against him, which was a disturbing thought, considering the whole pack's loyalty to Silvia. The triumphant gleam in the Shadowalker's eyes, imagined or not, would haunt the pack leader for a long time afterwards. Terra was annoyed her friend had not told her anything about his secret visits but was glad that she could once again talk to her friend.

Sali did his best to help out the pack and even Silvia couldn't deny that the help was much appreciated. With Sali's permission and reassurance (and under his direction) they started to expand the camp and began building actual houses. He traveled between the camp and the magical world, selling things such as werewolf fur as potions ingredients and homemade dolls and other objects as collectors' items for money which he then used to buy food and various much-needed supplies for the pack. He was working to starting a fundraiser for werewolves in general and researching wizarding law in hopes to be able to fight for more werewolf rights and still found the time to start teaching the young magical werewolves how to do basic magic (along with some of the older ones who never learned and still wished to). He was everything that the werewolves ever dreamed of and still continued to surpass their expectations every day.

So why did Terra get the feeling that he would be leaving the camp, perhaps for good, sometime in the near future?

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Back in the place he had claimed as his house, Harry smiled. It was all going according to plan. He would see if the wizarding world was worth saving

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Sorry for suddenly introducing some random characters, I hope it wasn't too boring or confusing. Next chapter – the trial! May or may not come before a Dark Angel update…Well, considering how long I've wanted to write that part…It's pretty decided that I'll be working on the trial next. I'll try Dark Angel, though.

Oh, and the part with the Order meeting and interrogation…I wrote that at three in the morning, when I just wanted to get this chapter out. So it might be kind of messed up. If it's really bad, I'll redo it.

Review? I like reviews…Especially when people say what parts they liked/disliked but…they really do make me feel guilty when I haven't updated in a while…Well, otherwise we wouldn't have this chapter quite so soon.


	6. Of Pain and Trials

Hello again, everyone! It hasn't been too long, has it? Though I'm not sure when chapter six will come out…The plot gets a little fuzzy from here on out so I have to deal with that (on the other hand, if anyone gives me any ideas they will be considered if they fit with my version of the plot well enough). You should probably expect a Dark Angel update first. But that's not going to happen for a while, still.

Random line of thought…How can my chapter get 1550 hits and only 17 reviews? I wrote this chapter extra long for all of you (6513 words of story context, people!). Of course, it's summer so some people are away but please review!

Anyways, some people have reviewed saying that they're confused and/or asking for further clarification in this chapter. For now I'm going to be selfish and say no. All will be revealed…later. I'd like people to think a bit, guess a bit, or just sit back and ride it out for a couple chapters until things are revealed. I'm having plenty of fun with this, at least. As Cobra said, 'keep 'em confused'. Extra thanks to those who were polite and/or thought it was fun, amusing, etc.

For those who asked for clarification, or for those who can't remember everything in the previous chapter, I'm going to sum up the puzzles and OCs for you:

Given so far:

- Harry was originally Cobra

- Cobra is also Damon Faunus (pretending to be a spy Death Eater for the Order, though in reality, he does not truly belong to either)

- Harry was seen with Cobra after returning from 'work' and again with Damon

- Sali works as part of the werewolf pack (with new character 1 – Terra Lyall, pack member and new character 3 – Conall Silvia, pack leader) and hasn't been seen elsewhere so far

- New character 2 is Bran Fiachra, a worker for the ministry and now an official scribe (read: scapegoat)

Hint: Keep in mind that roles can be played by two people, though then stories won't match up quite right and personalities may differ.

_And for those still confused about the slash question, in case I did not make it clear enough:_

_No. No slash (sorry for those who wanted it!). Very few pairings, in fact. And again, Harry is not going to be paired with anyone, in case I did not make it clear enough, because I still got a request._

Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter.

:Mindspeech:

-Parseltongue-

**Chapter Five: Of Pain and Trials **

_Pain_. It was the only thing that filled his beaten body. He tried to get up but collapsed instantly. Whimpering, he curled his small frame into a ball. A chilly breeze blew by him and he shivered, the sounds of the wind and the whispering tree branches somehow making him feel more alone than ever. Alone…he had always been alone.

Once again he prayed that someone would find him; once again there was no reply except the whisper of branches. Somewhere far away a wolf howled. He shivered again or, rather, he continued shivering, not having stopped in the first place.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

_When Salazar was a small child, his mother had been all for allowing him to have companions and pets, and snakes fit both categories neatly. His father, being a muggle and not knowing about magic, was not allowed to see these pets so they could not stand out outrageously. Also, with Dark magic users being hunted by the Light magic users, and snakes being representative of Dark magic users, it had to be something easily explainable. After all, one could hardly explain away a basilisk, which could only be bred by hatching a chicken's egg beneath a toad. _

_And so his mother chose to let him keep ashwinders, and that suited him just fine. He liked their ash-color and their smoldering-coal eyes. They emerged from the ashes of any magical fire that was allowed to burn unattended for too long and so were easy to both produce and explain away. However, these snakes only lived as long as the fire they sprung from burned. His mother had him burn his own fires and, since he did not know any versions of the everlasting fire spells, his own magical fires lasted only a few days at very best. _

_And when his father came close to seeing them, he would put out the flame himself, usually in the form of a candle that he took with him under the pretense of being able to see better in the darker rooms of the house._

_Perhaps that is where he learned that friends were not meant to last._

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"Blimey," Hagrid muttered, staring at the battered creature in front of him.

The young boy whimpered, and drew himself into a tighter ball, bloody and tattered clothing in such horrible shape that they provided no protection from the elements at all. Hagrid stared at the child for a minute, unsure as to what to do. While it was true that he often brought injured animals to his hut and nursed the ones that he could back to help, this child was outside of his area of expertise. He needed a healer.

He would go to Dumbledore, Hagrid decided, he would take the child to the Headmaster. Dumbledore would know what to do. Scooping up the small form and, holding him tight, he set off in a run towards the castle.

From within his arms, dull, grey eyes gleamed with something, not quite malice, not quite smugness, something that, in the eyes of such a small child looked purely unholy, before fading back again to dead, dull grey.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

There was a near-silent sort of whoosh as a shadowed figure Slid directly into one of the cells deep inside Azkaban. Though there was no sunlight this deep inside the prison and dementors leeched torchlight as easily as they stole happiness, the place was very well-lit; to his eyes alone. A prisoner further down gave a sort of half-hearted whimper. This deep in the prison known to wizards as Azkaban most of the cells were empty, many of the prisoners not being to last more than a couple days under the constant pressure of the dementors so deep in Azkaban.

This is where those convicted of the most heinous crimes were kept. This is where Sirius Black set a record by lasting twelve years before escaping, being the first (noted) person in history to break out of the prison. And, ironically, those who lasted more than a couple days down there were usually innocent of whatever crimes they were accused of. Those innocent people were the ones who had to suffer the longest. And this is where the wizarding world dumped Harry Potter when he brought all of their expectations and dreams they had been piling on him crashing down.

"Time to go, Harold," he said quietly to the occupant of the cell.

The occupant of the cell looked up, closing the thick potions text that he had been reading under the pretext of staring blankly at the wall, as nobody in Azkaban but the two of them could actually see it, while the other person rummaged through a small, hidden shelf that they had created in the wall and pulling out his own book, a muggle fantasy.

"Time?" Harold asked, speaking quietly so as to not overly disturb the other occupants of the prison.

"You have half an hour to get to your class."

"Don't you have to be at work?" Harold asked, frowning.

"Don't worry about it," the reply was dismissing, "Sali's covering that for me."

"And Cobra?"

"Busy setting up a new trail now that 'Damon Faunus' is 'dead'. He's got a full-time 'job' now."

"Ah, really?" Harold asked, "Would that work? Cobra is still needed."

"It should work out fine if we manage our time properly. Ask Sali to fill you in before one of you comes to take over for me. Oh, hold on a minute," He dug around in his pocket a bit before grabbing a glowing stone filled with black light, "That should be good enough to last until I get back."

"Thanks," Harold said, taking off the charms that made him look dirty and unkempt and pulling his hair back quickly. He was the only one that didn't have to use charms or spells to make his hair look longer or eye color different when they were playing 'Harry', as his 'character' already had semi-longish hair and was also the one who looked most like Harry himself.

Holding tightly onto the stone, he Slid away, leaving Harry Potter alone in the cell with his muggle book.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"Headmaster!" Hagrid boomed, bursting into the round office, the run across the school grounds and up two flights of stairs plus the spiral staircase leading to the office hardly seeming to put him out of breath.

"Hagrid!" Professor McGonagall said in a scandalized voice, turning away from Dumbledore to stare at the newcomer, "What _are_ you doing?"

Dumbledore, however, noticed the small bundle in his visitor's arms,

"What is that you're carrying, Hagrid?"

"I swear I found 'im like this, Professor, jus' lyin' there in the forest," Hagrid said, depositing the child gently onto Dumbledore's desk. McGonagall gasped and Dumbledore looked grave.

"Minerva, use my fireplace and warn Poppy that I am bringing a visitor that will need immediate medical care. Hagrid, go down to the dungeons and fetch Severus, tell him to meet us in the hospital wing," Dumbledore commanded, scooping up the child and quickly exiting his office, Hagrid right behind him.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"_Godric…" Rowena said gently as she approached the other founder._

"_I'm such a _fool_," Godric hissed, clenching his fists, wanting to hit himself with them more than anything. But he wanted Salazar back more. He wanted one last chance, to apologize, to do anything to make sure the other founder knew exactly how sorry he was, "I never stopped to think…I just let her _use_ me…Never even considered that Sal might have his own reasons…"_

"_Godric," Rowena repeated, more firmly. He just kept muttering to himself, not seeming to hear her._

"Godric!"_ Rowena said loudly, quietly swearing that if he did not even look her way this time she would hit him. Thankfully the other founder looked up, finally seeming to hear her._

"_Re'na?" He asked, dazedly._

"_I…may have found Sal," She admitted quietly, "But you aren't going to like it." Godric's heart almost stopped then and there, _Please don't let him be dead…Please, whatever happened to him, please don't let him have died…

"_But Helga would want to hear this too. Let us meet in our Meeting Room. You wait there and I'll go find her." The Meeting Room was a truly inspirational piece of pure Slytherin paranoia. Salazar had actually been able to prove that wherever you were in the castle and however softly you spoke, there was always at least one place where a listener could stay out of site and yet hear everything you were saying (providing you were standing still). Secret peepholes, turns in the hallway, broom closets, and just bizarre coincidences with the architecture all contributed to this strange phenomenon. And so, in all of Salazar's paranoid Slytherin glory, set up a room from which you could not be heard by anyone not in the room, nobody else would be able to find, nobody else would be able to remember you heading towards it, and many, many other irrationally Slytherin-type wards, including anti-scrying wards. And it was also equipped with the ability to be able view any other part of the school grounds, if the occupants of the room so wished to. Needless to say, it was placed very near the entrance to the dungeons, closer to Salazar's classroom and living quarters than anyone else's._

_And so the three remaining founders met in this spectacularly Slytherin Room to discuss the whereabouts of their missing friend._

"_So, Rowena, what did you want to tell us?" Helga asked._

"_Re'na thinks she knows where Sal might be," Godric answered, trying to keep his voice steady._

"_Really?" Helga asked, brightening instantly._

"_Ah…yes, I have suspicions as to where Salazar went. Let me check something, first," Rowena walked over to the large mirror that was set up on the opposite wall and, placing her hand on the cold surface, said, "Show me Salazar Slytherin's living quarters." Nothing happened. Frowning, she tried once more, and once more again. The last time she heard what could have been a hissing coming from the mirror. Her frown deepened and the thoughtful look she got when contemplating a puzzle appeared on her face as she appraised the mirror for a minute, and then again with magic._

_Finally she came to a conclusion,_

"_I do believe that he's got all his rooms locked away with a password. It's not the scrying glass, I was able to get to all of our rooms just fine, but Salazar's more private rooms, his private quarters, his Chamber, and some of the back passages and hidden rooms of the dungeons, all don't register on the glass. It's a little…disturbing."_

"_So he could be there?" Godric asked excitedly, "Hiding in this school, right under our noses?"_

"_No," Rowena replied, her voice vague and her mind still elsewhere, "You banished him…We banished him. He could not stay anywhere on school grounds without a pardon from all of us. Not belowground or aboveground or anywhere that he could have possibly gotten to through the dungeons. Does this mean that he plans to come back, I wonder, or is it just further proof to the contrary?"_

"_He has to come back," Godric said firmly, "He has to. He's Sal."_

"_And if he were here he would say something like, 'what amazing logic, how you reached that conclusion confounds even me'," Helga said, looking for a moment both immensely sad and amused._

"_He can't come back," Rowena stated calmly, and their reality built on the past, their small dream, came crashing down around him, "For one thing, he is banished and even though we removed the spell right after he left, he has no way of knowing that. For another…" she hesitated, "I don't believe that he is in a place that would allow him to come back even if he wanted to."_

"_What do you mean?" Godric asked, dread once again rising in his chest, _Please…

"_Soon after he left, I noticed that the magical energy of the wards had spiked for no reason. I believe that he gave all his magic to his core-stone and with it, his life." Godric stopped breathing, _his life? "_There's a ninety-eight percent probability that this is what happened."_

"_Why would he do that?" Godric asked with a laugh that was partly fake and partly hysterical, "What would be the point of powering up the wards further when we could have done the same with a few spells?"_

"_Salazar and I were talking about the wards some time ago…Not very long after the wards themselves were set up. They're weaker than they appear. A well thought-out plan and a few well-placed spells could bring them all crashing down. He considered giving them part of his magic. I told him not to even think about it, that we didn't know what could happen. It was too unpredictable…With just the slightest slip the wards could suck his life out of him with his magic, and his soul, too."_

"_His…soul?" Helga asked quietly._

"_The soul is the energy-source for magic and life, so the wards will keep him until they have enough magic stored for emergencies and can generate enough magic themselves to keep the castle running thereafter. With a castle like Hogwarts, it could take thousands of years."_

"_And not even a wizard could hope to live that long," Godric stated, collapsing back into the seat he was sitting on, "Not even a wizard…" _I'll never be able to see him again. I'll never be able to tell him he's sorry.

_Rowena hesitated and then spoke again,_

"_There are…records, of times when Lords would sacrifice hundreds of people to establish ward around their homes. And hundreds of years later, thousands, even, sometimes people would claim to be the reincarnation of one of those sacrificed. Which doesn't make a lot of sense, since the Theory of Reincarnation clearly states that if a person is allowed to remember more of their past life than vague images and dreams…Well, it just wouldn't work out. But, considering that the process disrupts the soul's natural flow, it is theoretically possible that at some point in it's reincarnated life, they will or might remember their past life…though probably only the one previous to it, the one that was 'interrupted'. _

"_Is it possible to somehow…extract Sal's soul from the wards?" Helga asked. She could vaguely see where Rowena was taking this and didn't like it at all._

"_Even if Hogwarts gave her consent, removing Sal's soul from the wards at this stage of the proceedings would result in its destruction."_

_There was a silence._

"_Is there…any way…that I could…be reincarnated with him?" Godric finally asked hesitantly._

"_If I do the calculations…It might be possible to…emerge at roughly the same time. But I would not allow you to leave without you allowing me to leave first. And more people would be easier to work into the equation."_

_Their eyes fell on Helga almost expectantly and then their eyes flew off her and to each other, almost guiltily._

"_It's not as if I'll let you two go without me," Helga said slowly, "But we'll have to leave the school in good hands…How soon can you do the calculations?"_

"_I plan to set the calculations to around the day that Sal left, so that would give us several months to make sure that the school will be able to run without us, though we might leave on different days. Also remember that we are not leaving for a few days or months, we're leaving for hundreds or thousands of years. When we return the school might not even still be standing."_

"_It's not that I don't have much of a choice…but there's not much question as to my answer, is there? Oh, of course I'll be coming with you but…Just leaving the school…I'm not sure I'll be able to…"_

"_Well leave her in good hands. The other teachers love this school as much as we do. Someday it will be time to move on. It's just that this someday is much sooner than expected," Godric stated._

_They left the room in heavy silence. _

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

There was a tense silence in the Hospital Wing while those who had worked together to help save the young boy's life waited anxiously for the results. Snape was down in the dungeons, working on the healing potions that Madam Pomfrey had requested, while Professor McGonagall was absent-mindedly conjuring up bandages, hot water, and other supplies that the healer had requested, not having the magic or concentration to spare as she fought desperately to keep the child alive. Dumbledore and Hagrid could only sit and wait for the results.

Finally the healer emerged from behind the white curtain that she had drawn around her patient's bed, more out of habit than anything else.

"He's going to make it," she proclaimed, collapsing, exhausted, onto one of the seats usually reserved for visitors, "It'll be a fight but if Severus finishes those potions and he continues healing so well…But Merlin, what a struggle. I haven't seen someone so torn up since the War." She hesitated and then turned to Dumbledore, "But the worst thing was…There were signs of abuse, Albus. Long term abuse. And those wounds were caused by a human. I can only imagine what sort of emotional scars he's going to have after all this. What are we going to do with him?"

"Is he a muggle?" Dumbledore asked.

"No, no, he's definitely got some magic in him. You can't get silver eyes like that on a muggle. He's probably from a long line of magical ancestors; last eyes I saw like that were on Sirius Black, and those were bluer."

"I do not wish to hand him over to the Ministry," Dumbledore mused, "And yet I'm hesitant to allow him to stay here. We'll need someone to look after him. Someone in the Order, until we can find out who this child is and where he got those wounds. I will have to bring it up at the next Order meeting. When will he be waking up?"

"I'm not sure at all. And I don't know what state his mind will be in when he does so. But if he wakes up, I will contact you immediately, or at least after I examine him. And I will inform you if he's in good enough condition to speak with."

"That would be excellent," Dumbledore said, "If there's nothing else that can be done, I will now take my leave."

And so he left and did not notice the school nurse's slightly unfocused eyes or slightly unnatural tone of voice, nor did he notice the silver eyes gleaming at him from behind the white curtains.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

For the first time since Cobra had appeared and started rounding up Death Eaters, the Order Headquarters was silent and grim. Moody looked approving of the new attitude but Dumbledore was worried. When their leader entered, everyone started talking, sounding remarkably like a group of reporters.

"Dumbledore, is it true?"

"I heard that one of the captives claims that she framed Harry Potter to go to Azkaban!"

"It's not true, is it?"

"Oh god, please tell me it's not true!"

Dumbledore cleared his throat loudly and all the shouting stopped,

"It is true that one of the captured Death Eaters, a Cho Chang who went to Hogwarts and was involved with Harry, claimed under Veritaserum and truth spells that she framed Harry Potter for the murders of Mr. Seamus Finnigan and Ms Parvati Patil, as well as the attempted murders of Ms Hermione Granger and Mr. Ron Weasley (both of which are, luckily, sitting here today) using a forbidden potion. We are looking into whether or not it is possible that what she spoke was untrue, misunderstood, or misspoken," He thought he heard a badly stifled snort of derisive laughter coming from somewhere near Severus Snape or Draco Malfoy but when he looked the two of them were impassive as ever, as well as Luna Lovegood and the Weasley twins who were sitting nearby. He frowned slightly and wondered why they were sitting where they were. The Weasley twins were well known for how much they despised the potions professor and vise versa.

"If it proves to be true," Dumbledore continued, "We are working on appealing for another trial for Harry, with the new evidence that we have collected. We will do everything that we can to be sure that whoever was truly responsible for those deaths is brought to justice and that Harry is freed." There were cheers from the Order.

"Surely you aren't serious," Remus Lupin said loudly, standing up and ignoring the pang that always came with those words. _'No, I'm Sirius,' his friend would say…_ "Harry Potter is a _murderer_."

"We are just now learning that he might not be, Remus," Dumbledore said calmly, "If he proves to be innocent, we will give him what he deserves, is freedom and pardons."

"He _deserves_ to be locked away forever," Ron Weasley snarled, "Who's to say that one of the Death Eaters didn't just catch Cho and change her memories to get their precious Potter back?"

"If you'd paid any attention in potions during your seven years at Hogwarts, Weasley," Severus Snape drawled, "You would know that it is impossible to fool Veritaserum with such simple things as memory charms." The Weasley twins looked torn between defending their brother and giving Snape a pat on the back for putting him in his place. In the end they settled for just sitting there and looking angry, though at which party it was hard to tell.

"If Harry Potter proves to be innocent, we will give him a trial," Dumbledore stated firmly, "We cannot let another innocent man waste his life away with the dementors." He looked pointedly at Remus, whose spirit and argument collapsed at the reference to Sirius.

"…Nothing more than a stinking traitor…" Ron muttered but was otherwise silent.

And so the Order meeting continued.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"Headmaster!" Madam Pomfrey called through her floo-link into Dumbledore's office.

It was a week later and the Order had made no progress identifying the unknown boy (who had yet to wake up), nor had they made any progress with disproving Ms Chang's statement that Harry Potter was framed. In fact, it was alarmingly easy for them to find evidence that pointed to the contrary.

"The child has regained consciousness!" Pomfrey exclaimed excitedly, when the Headmaster turned to show that she had his attention.

"Has he?" The Headmaster said, seeming relieved, "That's excellent. I will arrive there at once. Will you leave the Floo channel open?"

"Of course."

"Then I will be there in a few seconds. See you there." The healer nodded at the obvious dismissal and her head disappeared from the fire as she pulled it back to her office. A few seconds later, the Headmaster stepped out of her fireplace, brushing soot off of his robes.

"The child has regained consciousness," Madam Pomfrey repeated, "and appears to be in good shape. However, mentally…He seems very frightened of me and so hasn't said much yet. I have nothing further to tell you."

"Thank you, Poppy. Will you wait nearby?" She nodded silently in response, her anxiousness freezing her vocal cords.

The headmaster walked into the hospital wing hurriedly and then froze, seeing terrified silver-grey eyes watching him carefully. Slowly, he approached the bed and sat down a small distance from it. The child flinched.

"Hello," Dumbledore said gently, "My name is Albus Dumbledore and you are at my school. Do you know how you got here?" The boy shook his head, a silent negative, but did not relax.

"What is your name?" He tried again, trying to make his voice even gentle and adding a hint of the trust spells that he usually used to make other people have confidence in him.

"D-Devin" the boy muttered, his voice terrified.

"No last name?" the boy shook his head emphatically, "Well then, Devin, here at Hogwarts we'll do our best to make sure you're happy. We will _never_ do anything to hurt you, Devin, I promise you. But if I don't know where you came from, then the men at the Ministry will come and take you away. Can you tell me anything about where you came from? Your last name?"

Again, Devin shook his head.

"Very well, then," Dumbledore said gravely, "I must confess, I am very disappointed in you. The Ministry will be here in a couple of days. I hope you change your mind."

"I don't remember!" the little boy shouted, "I don't remember anything! I don't remember anything but 'Devin'!" Long, matted black hair fell to cover his eyes as he rocked back and forth slightly, hidden silver eyes unfocussed.

The Headmaster's eyes widened slightly as he realized his mistake,

"I'm sorry, Devin, I didn't realize. We can tell that to the Ministry and they won't be able to take you away, don't worry." But the boy curled into a miserable ball and did nothing but whimper no matter what Dumbledore said. Eventually the headmaster gave up and left, telling Madam Pomfrey that her patient had gotten upset at his questioning.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"And so," Dumbledore finished his explanation, "I cannot take him because I am busy working on Harry's trial. We don't know who he is or where he came from yet but he needs someone to look after him. It has been decided that he will stay at Hogwarts. You have all come here because I believe that of all the suitable candidates, one of you should look after him." He carefully did not mention the Order, as not all of the people present belonged to the anti-Voldemort organization. The Hogwarts staff looked at their employer dubiously, but none more so than Severus Snape.

What in the world was the Headmaster getting at? Did he think that, out of all of the people in the Order, he was one of those best suited to look after a child? At his side his apprentice was looking at the clearly upset child curiously as Dumbledore held him in a way that the child made look awkward or even painful. Pain and fear-filled silver-grey eyes looked up at him pleadingly and Snape sighed. If it came down to it, he knew that he could not refuse to take the boy. Draco could take care of the brat, anyways.

"We can take care of him," Hermione offered in her best 'motherly' voice, probably taken directly from Mrs. Weasley.

"No!" the young boy shouted, wriggling out of Dumbledore's uncomfortable grip and, to everyone's surprise, running to hide behind Snape.

There was an awkward pause in which Snape attempted to shoo the boy away from him but the child had Snape's robes in a tight grip.

"Perhaps," Snape suggested silkily, inexplicably smug from the fact that the young boy had chosen him over Granger, "his…condition…was caused by a woman. He may be less inclined to get along with females." Some of the women gasped sympathetically and Granger muttered something about "bigot" and "sexist".

"Well then," Dumbledore suggested jovially, twinkle returning to his eyes, "That would suggest that you are the best person to take care of him, Severus." How the Headmaster had come to that conclusion, Snape had no idea, and he told the Headmaster as much while other members of the staff voiced their disapproval.

"Well, Professors McGonagall, Sinistra, Hooch, Vector, Sprout, Trelawney, and Granger are all out (as well as Ms Lovegood and Ms Weasley), as they are all women; Professor Flitwick has Ms Weasley as an apprentice, so that would not be an ideal place for this young boy to stay either; Professors Lupin and Gawain (not present), both not having worked at Hogwarts previously or for some time need more time to organize their lesson plans; the child is not comfortable around Professors Hagrid and Firenze, as well as Mr. Filch; and as much as I myself would like to look after this delightful young boy, I have too many things that need to get done before the beginning of the next school year, not to mention Harry's trial. In short, you are the best person to look after this child."

In other words, Snape translated, You cannot bother to find a more suitable home for a child and you do not care as long as it is not you. Therefore you dump him on me because it's the most convenient for you and the rest of the Order, since I am no use to you without my position as a spy.

"Headmaster, I simply cannot accept the responsibility. I have no experiences raising a child and my living quarters are filled with poisons. I am the least suited to look after this child." A hard poke in his side caused him to look down at his apprentice and Draco took the opportunity during his slight distraction to speak up.

"We'll take him."

"We will _not_," Snape protested, glaring at his apprentice.

"Your apprentice seems perfectly fine with the idea. And I'm sure the other teachers will agree to look after him for short periods of time."

"Headmaster," Professor Sprout protested, "If Severus is unwilling to take the boy we shouldn't force it upon him."

"There are no other options," Dumbledore stated, "Perhaps Remus can take care of him part of the time but everyone else is very busy at the moment." The werewolf had flat-out refused to participate in Harry's trial.

"Headmaster, I cannot…"

After a couple minutes of arguing, the child was forced on him despite all of his protests and he was sent to his quarters to put the child to bed_. Like some common nursemaid!_ He thought angrily. He looked at the child at his side; Devin was staring up at him adoringly.

"Well, let's find you somewhere to stay," Snape muttered gruffly.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Finally, the day of Harry Potter's second trial came (well, third, but who was counting?). The wizarding world had once again managed to turn a grave (and rightfully so) occasion into some type of festival. It took place, just as his first (technically second) trial had been, on his birthday and people lined up hours before the start to get a good seat. Throughout the whole affair people hardly sat down, milling around and talking with whoever the stumbled upon as if it were just a huge party. Several people were even drunk.

Bran looked at the chaos going on above him with disgust. Even the room was shaped rather like a muggle theater or Greek coliseum. He was once again in a bad mood; he knew there would be an unhappy ending for the Ministry and, as official 'Scribe and the minister's personal transcriber, he was well placed to take the fall for anything that would and could go wrong in this trial. And he just knew that something would go wrong.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Devin looked around, bored. Today was the day of Harry Potter's trial, so most of the staff was at the Ministry, including Snape and Draco. Remus, however, stayed behind and so Devin was sent to stay with him. Devin didn't like it with Remus, however; there was something…_wrong_ about the man and it scared him. Once again he wished that Snape was there too look after him instead.

But all that aside, there was somewhere else he had to be. His eyes practically _glowed_ with the knowledge and so he carefully crept over to the werewolf. Remus looked over at him and smiled tiredly. Devin smiled sweetly back at him and reached up towards Remus face, which towered above him. Remus was unsure what to do but, upon further urging, picked up the child. Devin's smile widened and he touched Remus's forehead. The werewolf fell over unconscious and Devin, landing neatly, left the room.

There was somewhere else that he had to be. And finally he was going to be able to go there.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

There was a sudden hush in the huge courtroom as the talkative crowd caught site of Harry Potter, being marched into the courtroom by, not dementors, but human guards. After all, this was a _public_ trial. The wizarding world took one look and Harry Potter and did not like what they saw. Though his tattered prison robes had been replaced with clean, decent-looking ones, they still looked ugly and too big for his thin frame. Though the dirt and grime had been cleaned off with a few quick _scourgify_s, his skin seemed to hang off his bones in an unhealthy-looking way and his skin was pale, as one reporter said, 'like something dead and bloated you'd expect to find floating in a lake.' His hair, longer than before and hopelessly tangled, though no longer quite…greasy, still retained an oily type of unclean look. His eyes were dull, his figure was slouched, and, with his small size and the huge cloths, he looked all too much like a child. And he was crying brokenly.

The wizarding world seemed shocked at the broken little boy sitting in front of them. Somehow they expected a heroic Gryffindor to march defiantly out of Azkaban perfectly intact and ready to forgive them all and defeat Voldemort for them. The sobbing child in front of them shattered all illusions they had.

And so the trial began.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Sali looked around the place in wonder. The ministry was truly huge and he was truly lost. Once again he returned to the atrium, the huge dome-shape echoing the minute plinking sound of the water falling in the fountain. The place was deserted. Two girls walked past him hurriedly, muttering to each other.

"We're going to be late!"

"It's not _my_ fault that you slept in!"

"_I_ slept in? You didn't even wake up until I dumped that water on you!" And, indeed, the other girl's hair was slightly wet.

"And you only did that after you woke up, which was _three hours_ later than you set the alarm!"

"So the clock's cheap. Go complain to my parents, okay? It's not _my_ fault I don't have any pocket money!"

And so on and so on. The two girls continued bickering as they ran down the hall and out of site. Sali stared after them blankly. Then, shrugging, he followed them. Maybe wherever they were going there was someone that would know where the office of the person he was attempting to find was. Maybe. It couldn't hurt.

All he had wanted, he mused, as he ran down the hall before the girls could completely disappear, was to find a man that offered to help Sali look up werewolf rights.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

The trial continued relatively peacefully. Fudge would ask questions and Harry would whimper and rock back and forth and Dumbledore would answer for him, doing his best to sound benevolent and kind. And so it went until something shattered the peace. Nobody was sure what set it off, that sudden change, and certainly nobody suspected that it was a signal. But that detail is unimportant as of now.

Harry let out an earth-shattering scream, thrashing wildly. The thousands of people watching from around the court flinched and covered their ears. The sound was haunting, unearthly. Damon apparated (or, rather, Slid) into the room through the hundreds of wards that made sure that none of the prisoners escaped, though none of the magical persons currently in the room seemed to remember that it was supposed to be impossible. They stared, watching fascinated as Damon scooped up the fragile boy, never once thinking that a known Death Eater was in a position to easily kill every one of them.

"It's all right. I won't let them take you, Harry. I'm here. Don't worry…" The boy made whimpering noises but otherwise didn't say anything, though his wild flailing had subsided.

The crowd was whispering amongst themselves, demanding to know what has happening.

"Harry…" the closest person, Albus Dumbledore, was watching the boy with carefully concerned eyes.

"Don't speak to him, you bastard! You're the one who did this to him; you and the rest of these hypocrites."

"Sal…" Draco was watching the scene with wide, terrified eyes.

"You're no better than the rest of these imbeciles! He told me what you did, what you were…what you said. You have no right to try and talk to him! Do you even know what you've done to him?"

"I know…I know he left. We…I…made him leave." Draco was trembling visibly.

"He _died_ that day, you idiot!" Damon hissed. Draco flinched violently, "He died because you were too wrapped up in your idiotic prejudices, _Gryffindor_."

"Mr. Faunus, you are a known Death Eater so I must ask you to step away from Mr. Potter," Dumbledore's eyes were cold, "Mr. Potter has yet to be officially proven innocent so further contact with him could be taken as aiding a known convict. Let it be known that we _will_ put all our efforts into hunting you down if you don't leave Mr. Potter alone." The other wizards seemed a bit taken aback that he was acting as if Harry was still guilty when they had already welcomed him back as their hero before realizing that it was for Harry's own safety and happiness. Of course.

"You think you can make me? My own recourses far outstrip your precious Order combined with any other people who you have in your power. Hell, I'll even let you combine recourses with Voldemort; you still won't be able to find us."

Damon stood and, carrying Harry, turned towards the crowd,

"For the _record_," he gave a Snape-worthy sneer, "My name is Damon Gwynfor Faunus and I have something to say to the rest of you hypocrites.

"You expected a _child_ to fight a battle all of you were too afraid to fight yourself. You manipulated him into your expectations and abandoned him when you saw fit. Well, this time you have gone too far and I will step in. Harry will come with me and become what you would not allow him to be. I _shall_ take Harry with me. I _will_ allow him what you would not. Harry will come with me and be reborn as the seventh month dies." It took a minute for the impact of these words to hit the wizards listening to him. Then they started shouting, standing up and calling out, their voices drowned out by the overall _noise_ that filled the room. The Order members just sat there, stunned.

Hazel eyes turned angry silver and brown hair turned black as the good-natured Order member, now thought of as a traitor turned into the wizarding world's current savior, a shadowy-black cloak materializing around his shoulders and half-covering Harry. He glared at the wizarding world, ready to give them one last piece of his mind.

From within Damon's arms, emerald eyes glittered with identical malice.

"Go to hell," Damon snarled and Slid the two of them away.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

So my comments on some of the scenes I wrote (going backwards):

Trial scene – I was going to try that to do that trial scene, I really was. But, um, I didn't end up doing it. I suppose you wouldn't believe me if I said it wasn't my fault

Founder memory – How's that for some explanations? I'm glad I wrote the Founder's part…I didn't know half of this stuff before I started writing it

Ashwinder memory scene – I'm sorry; I know I messed up a bit on the ashwinders. I hadn't read the Fantastic Beasts book in a while and that's how I truly thought it was, about the ashwinders dying with the fires instead of just dying after a few hours. But I like it this way and I will not be changing it.

Up next – the aftermath of the trial and the plot finally gets moving…maybe. Not sure when that'll come out, though.

And for some reason I had to go through the whole thing again because messed up my italics.

Please, please review! I love reviews! I like to know what the readers think! I love long reviews, too! So please, please review!


	7. Of Falls and Coincidences

Up 'till now, me and my muses have worked together to do our best to keep the story (relatively) clear to you readers. Sorry, but we're giving up. Or, no, that's not quite right. We're still working hard on pointing out clues and whatnots in the section before the chapter begins (though it's not as if there's some big realization that we're working up towards) and we're trying to keep this story in relative order. We've just decided to start having more fun while we're doing it (translate muse speech: we're still trying to keep this reasonable in characterization and realistic-ness but at the same time, we're going to do whatever the hell we want to…which is still pretty much what we usually do; excuse the harsher language).

To all those hanging in there and being pleasantly puzzled (and polite about it): thank you very much, I hope this fic continues to amuse you and the puzzles will clear up in time. Feel free to continue to ask questions…But that doesn't mean that I'll answer all of them, though I will try and address them.

_Is Harry/Salazar all these people? How can he be in two places at once? _

_In a manner of speaking. There are several ways to be in the same place at one, including a time-turner (which, incidentally isn't it). This is a different piece of magic, which the Potter Hunters (the people who believe Harry and are now trying to locate him, I have yet to come up with a good name for them) will have to discover for themselves within the next few chapters. A clue: there is only one real Harry. The others are, for lack of better term, fakes, although they are all working in cooperation with the original. That is all I can say as of now._

_And a continuation of the last question: "Damon" can Slide but "Harry" is supposed to be Salazar. And then there's Cobra. What the hell?_

_One or two clues for everyone. Only 'Harry', who is Salazar's reincarnation, can Slide unaided. When alone with the other 'characters' or 'Harrys' he is always referred to as Harry at some point in the scene, while the others are Damon/Cobra, Sali, Harold, and so on. And Damon _is_ Cobra. Or, rather 'Cobra' is 'Damon's' alternate identity or whatnot. 'Damon' is now 'dead' and Cobra will show up only rarely, if that helps at all. _

_What is that kid? He wouldn't be another one of Harry's 'characters', would he? Or is he a real person? And what is his age, really?_

_Devin is…unintended on my part. He wasn't supposed to turn out like that but…Let's just play along and see how it works. He is…I don't know what to call him. He would probably be considered human. I will not reveal anything about Harry's 'characters'. His age is discussed briefly in this chapter but I did not give him an official age because, quite frankly, I have had very little experience with children and I wasn't sure what would be an appropriate age for him. _

_What does he mean he will be reborn as the seventh month dies? _

_Well, when Damon/Cobra says it, he refers to the prophesy that was made and that Dumbledore freely shared with the Order in hopes of getting their spirits up (and of which Damon was part of, for a short while). The wizards are outraged because this 'dark' wizard was taking away their reclaimed savior while only the Order knew about the true meaning behind these words. Harry was born (and so, technically, reborn) on his birthday, at the end of the seventh month (July 31) which is also the day of his trial._

_As another note, I had Harry's birthday down as both the day he got his memories back and the day of the trial. Sorry but this was a mistake, as less then two months passed between these times, rather than a whole year. Harry obtained Salazar's memories on Sal's birthday (and the eighteenth time in Harry's life, making him almost nineteen…that is a bit older than I meant to place it but there's no changing it now), May 14th (the date was mostly random, so please don't ask). _

_Does Sal ever let the other founders apologize or not?_

_Now where would be the point in telling you that at this point in the game? _

_When Damon left, did he not change into Cobra? And if he did, then wouldn't Dumbledore and the Order perhaps realize that the two are the same person, which would mean that they would no longer trust Cobra (not that they really did before) since they believe Damon is a Death Eater? I mean before, Cobra was just this person in between who was on no one's side so now wouldn't the Order think he was on Voldemort's side? Or am I totally wrong and have basically no sense to you?_

_Cobra wanted everyone to see that he was both the one actively fighting against Voldemort _and_ the person that was known as a traitor to Dumbledore. Basically, Cobra and Damon's double role was to play as if they were on each side but not really be on either, if that makes any sense. He is showing, best he can, that he is on nobody's side. He does not care if the Order trusts Cobra or not because he has never had or needed any support from them in the first place._

_So how many Harry's are really out there?_

_Finally a question that I can reasonably answer. There are currently four different 'people' taking on roles, and, as of now, eight different roles, some of which the readers have yet to meet. There might be one or two more but no more than ten. Because that is _definitely _excessive enough, thank-you-very-much. The ones that are known as roles to the readers are: Harry (of course), Sali, Cobra, Damon, and Harold. One or two more are revealed in this chapter._

_What's the black light thingy? Some sort of shadow time turner?_

_Oh, someone finally commented on that. It's not a timeturner, but good guess. There is another clue in this chapter and I will reveal what it is in the next._

_Information about the many 'Harrys' and new characters (trying different formats, see what works): (OC original characters, HC a revealed Harry character)_

_HC1 Harry Potter: Original. Salazar Slytherin's reincarnation. Has messy black hair with bright green eyes. Was originally 'Cobra'. Was seen with 'Cobra' after returning from 'work'. If Harry Potter were a character, he could be considered 'dead', as nobody is 'playing' him any more. Location: unknown._

_HC2 Sali Azar Slythurn: Has bright blue eyes and slightly long black hair. Works as part of the werewolf pack with Terra Lyall and Conall Silvia. Ends up at Harry's trial while researching werewolf rights for the pack. Was, at one point, 'playing' Harry's new character at 'work'. Location: usually at the werewolf packs._

_HC3 Cobra: Has silver eyes, the rest is unknown. Is actually 'Damon Faunus'. Is setting up a 'full-time' 'job' now that 'Damon Faunus' is 'dead'. _

_HC4 Damon Gwynfor Faunus: Has brown hair and hazel eyes. Is pretending to be a spy Death Eater for the Order though, in reality, he does not truly belong to either. Slid into Harry's trial and Slid away with Harry after giving the wizarding world a good piece of his mind. Is now a 'dead' character. Location: unknown._

_HC5 Harold: Looks a lot like Harry; has the same eye-color and his hair is a similar length to that of the 'Harry' in the cell and pulls it back so it doesn't get in his face (but it's long enough to braid). 'Plays' Harry in Azkaban but is replaced by Harry himself so that he can leave for some type of class. Receives a glowing black stone from Harry before Sliding away._

_OC1 Terra Lyall: Member of the werewolf pack (HC2) Sali lives with._

_OC2 Conall Silvia: Leader of the werewolf pack (HC2) Sali lives with._

_OC3 Bran Fiachra: Worker for the ministry and the official 'Scribe (read: scapegoat). 'Scribed for Harry Potter's trial._

_OC4 Devin: Has long, scruffy-looking black hair and bright silver eyes. A mysterious (and somewhat creepy or odd) kid who arrived at Hogwarts with no memories of his past…or so he says. At one point had Poppy Pomfrey under some type of control and, on the day of Harry's trial, somehow knocked out Remus Lupin, his watcher, and left, apparently to go somewhere that he 'had to be'. Is being taken care of mostly by Severus Snape and his apprentice, Draco Malfoy (Godric Gryffindor's reincarnation)._

_And don't forget: roles can be played by two people, though then stories won't match up quite right and personalities may differ. Mostly it would be most convenient for them to each keep one or two roles and have all the more complex roles played by only one person._

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

:Mindspeech:

-Parseltongue-

**Chapter Six: Of Falls and Coincidences **

"We'd better head back to the castle," Severus Snape told his apprentice, standing from his seat. When his apprentice said nothing, he glanced at the still-seated wizard who was staring at the ground, "Draco…"

"I don't know what to do, Severus," his apprentice said softly, still not looking up, "I wanted to tell him I was sorry, but I couldn't even do that."

"Sorry for what?" Snape snapped, "You weren't one of Potters so-called 'betrayers'. You barely even knew the brat beyond insults."

"But what I did was worse."

Snape had had practice dealing with situations most found uncomfortable. He had spoken calmly and reassuringly to countless depressed Slytherins, had even let a _child_ with a painful past into his living quarters and taken care of him when the responsibility was cast on him, and a young child at that (which led to the question, what age was Devin, really? Draco's guess had been a malnourished nine while Snape himself believed the child to be closer to seven), yet his own apprentice was confusing him with vague impossibles and confusing contradictions. What was this horrible thing that he had allegedly done to Potter when he had not even been close to the Gryffindor? When he had not declared publicly how much he hated the 'traitor' and all the horrible things that he hoped would happen to the Gryffindor?

"We are going back to Hogwarts _now_," Snape stated calmly, placing a deliberate emphasis on the word 'now', "And, upon arrival, you will get some sleep until you can say something that will at least make sense." And for some reason, Draco smiled at him and stood up. Well, whatever it was that had amused his apprentice seemed to have worked, at least.

As they left towards the exit, the large crowd of wizards around them pushing and shoving as they headed in what seemed to be random directions, someone stumbled into Snape from behind, nearly sending them both crashing to the floor. Snape staggered a few steps before straightening, turning around with a glare, scathing words already beginning to spill from his mouth. And then he froze, for looking back at him, surprised, were two very familiar-looking eyes.

"_Black_!" Snape hissed in shock but the crowd had swirled between the two with astonishing speed, seeing how they were not far from each other, Snape hadn't moved, and the other had yet to get up from where he had fallen. Snarling a curse, Snape tried to get around the witches and wizards that had swarmed between him and the other man but it was no use. When he finally managed to break through to where the other man had been, he was gone. No doubt he had been carried away by the crowd or had merely taken the opportunity to run away.

"Severus?" Draco asked from his side and he almost jumped, having temporarily forgotten about his apprentice. It was a miracle that they hadn't been separated, with Draco in the state that he was in and Snape distracted by the sight of a person long dead.

He shook his head at these distracting thoughts and once again took charge of the situation,

"Let's go." It was only once again they made it through the crowd to the doors, a narrow (and completely packed) corridor and out into the wide atrium that they emerged from the crowd and managed to stop for a bit off to the side, absentmindedly smoothing rumbled robes. The roar of the crowd had been reduced to a less-painful loud but somehow muted talking, the spells that made up the atrium not being completely useless after all, if not frivolous; once the sound level reached a certain point, the atrium stopped echoing and actually absorbed excess sound. It was, in fact, relatively peaceful until someone, apparently trying to escape the crowd's beeline for the door, walked right into Draco.

"Ow…" the man muttered, a hand instinctively going up to where he had banged his forehead into the back of Draco's head. "Oh!" startled emerald eyes looked up from under the hand, "I'm terribly sorry. I didn't mean to bump into you like that; I was just trying to get out. Crazy crowd, that is, and I…" He trailed off as he noticed the way the other two were looking at him, "What?"

"_Sal_?" Draco asked looking surprised, anxious, and disbelieving all at once.

"Er…What?" The wizard that bore such a startling resemblance to Potter looked confused. Was he really Potter? Wasn't this all a bit too convenient and hadn't Potter apparated away? Or been apparated away, at least? Snape surveyed the other wizard carefully. The green eyes were definitely Potter's, he had never seen eyes quite so green on anyone, save Potter's mother, there was no lightning-bolt scar, no glasses, and his hair (also black) was pulled back casually in a way that no Potter had ever managed before, as it did not look like it was ready to spring free any minute and attack someone, at least. His careful eyes also noticed small differences in the facial structure and so on but if this was not Potter, he looked _way_ too much like him to be a coincidence. Severus Snape did not believe in coincidences.

"Sal, I'm sorry," And now Draco was nearly crying, something that Snape had missed while examining the other wizard, "I should have…"

The other wizard looked extremely uncomfortable,

"Hey, look. I don't know who this 'Sal' person is but I'm not him. I don't think I've ever seen you before in my life. Hell, I've only been in England four months and, no offense, but you lot aren't the most rational of thinkers. Maybe I just look like this 'Sal' person?"

"If you are not Potter, than who are you?" Severus asked calmly and the other wizard looked annoyed.

"Potter as in _Harry Potter_? You think that I'm _Harry Potter_? As in that Harry Potter?" He made a wild gesture towards the doors to the courtroom and the people flooding out, "the one who just apparated away from his own trial with his pal, Potter? I know that I look like him, I noticed when they dragged him in and I've certainly been accused of being him enough times but I've only been here in England for _four months_, didn't you hear me? Potter's spent the last three years in some jail for something that I, quite frankly, don't think he did. Now whenever I see someone, it's 'Oh look, it's Harry Potter, escaped from Azkaban!' 'Go call the aurors, I'll hold him off!' or just 'Let's go try and use our nastiest spells on the _squib_ just because he looks like someone you English wizards all seem to hate!"

"You're a squib?" Draco interrupted somewhat tactlessly.

"Yes!" the emerald-eyed wizard said frostily, "I have been since I was born. Now if you don't mind, if I don't leave soon, I'll be late for my classes."

"You never answered my question," Snape pointed out calmly.

"My name is _Harold_," the other wizard said, no longer angry but with an icy calm that showed that he hadn't forgiven the other wizards for their faux pas, "And yes, I have been called _Harry_ by some of my friends but I am not _Harry Potter_." And with that he turned and left, the two Slytherin wizards watching him go unsure what to make of it all.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Sali picked himself back up from where he had fallen, brushed off his robes, and, pushing and shoving his way through the crowd like the rest of them, he finally came to a deserted room, probably used for fancy, impressive meetings. He glanced at the clock. If he timed it right…They were all in a race, him and the rest of the characters, to get their alibis set up while not dropping the few they were juggling between them. Praying that Dumbledore had been sidetracked by either the minister or some Order members and that Harold had managed to distract Malfoy and Snape long enough, he grabbed a glowing black stone out of his robe-pocket and Slid away.

Remus was asleep when Sali found him at Hogwarts, slumped over on his desk.

"Wake up, Remus," Sali said in a sing-song voice, shaking his 'friend' awake. Remus blearily opened his eyes. Tired brown eyes met bright blue.

"Who…? Siri…" And that was when Sali struck. Forcing himself past the werewolf's defenses he brutally invaded the other's mind. His scent marking him as a sort of 'friend', he easily bypassed the werewolf's basic shields and ripped through the rest. He had no mercy for those who betrayed him and if something had forced the werewolf to betray him, he would need to find out. And if Remus had truly betrayed him, without even a doubt in his heart…Well, he would become nothing but Sali's puppet for the time being. A wolf betraying on of its pack's cubs was, of course, a serious crime among wolves and werewolves.

Memories of happiness, trust, hurt, and betrayal flew past him and he sneered inwardly. The betrayer feeling betrayed. How…pitifully ironic. At last he found the center of the swirling memories and sunk down into it. The spell that Sali was planning to use was extremely difficult, not to mention illegal, as all mindmagics were. It used both minds to spin out realistic scenarios and interactions between the two of them which, under the directions of the caster, were eventually turned into memories. And the memories would shift according to the caster's will until the caster broke the connection or released the spell. It could even be used to provide a lifetime's worth of alibis for someone who does not exist.

Arranging a few basic meetings and a few letters to each other, he withdrew from the werewolves' mind. It wouldn't do to stay in there too long, especially not in the core; it could cause serious mental damage to Remus. Once finished with this task, he surveyed Remus's mind carefully and frowned. There was indeed something wrong with Remus's mind. For one thing, Sali had not once heard the wolf part of it protest even though he was tearing through all sorts of memories and invading every inch of the werewolf's mind. For another it was…bound in a strange way to various things.

Searching every inch of the werewolf's mind, he finally found the wolf, chained, muzzled, weakened, and, apparently, beaten too. But it was still conscious and growled when Sali approached. Sali paused and weighed his chances.

:O great man-bound wolf: he started formally::I have come to take judgment on your bound-man. In your absence he has betrayed one of your pups and done great harm. I will release you and the spells that were placed on him. If he earns the forgiveness of the pup then I, too, will forgive him. If he fails, then we will claim damage to him. Is that acceptable:

The wolf growled his acceptance and Sali released him from his bindings, as well as disengaging the various compulsions on Remus's mind. How had it gotten to such a state? Sure, the wolfsbane potion would have weakened the wolf a little and could have possibly built up in his system, but that did not explain the chains. Someone had cast a spell on the man, somehow, but the question was: who was it and when? But once the wolf had been weakened and bound, it was no wonder that he had turned on Harry so easily, with all the compulsions that Dumbledore (and, perhaps, others) had placed on the werewolf. Werewolves were thought to have unnaturally strong Occlumency shields but the truth was that their shields were just _different_, being maintained mostly by the wolf inside of them. Without the wolf, their natural Occlumency skills were practically non-existent, the werewolves never having the necessity to build them up themselves.

Remus and the wolf were now freed but what really mattered was what they did with the opportunity.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"Ouch!" Bran Fiachra fell out of the lift, stumbled, and then landed on the pile of papers that he was supposed to deliver to the Auror Headquarters from the Broom Regulatory Control. Somehow he had ended up on level nine, in front of the Department of Mysteries. He _knew_ he should have just taken the stairs; the lifts seemed to hate him, or maybe one of the wizards that blamed him for the Potter Trial Disaster had charmed them to do so.

He had already lost his job as 'scribe after that disaster of a trial and there was talk of moving him to Hogwarts. The official unofficial excuse was to keep an eye on Dumbledore but everyone knew that it was just to get him out of the ministry and, hopefully, annoy Dumbledore while he was at it. Not that he minded, he liked the old castle a lot better than the ministry; shiny, 'efficient', and full of a fake cheer that nauseated him. Though the aurors were interesting and some of them were even nice, if not pitying, like Tonks and Shackelbolt.

An Unspeakable came out of the Department of Mysteries, apparently on some sort of errand or break, but paused when he saw Bran.

"What are you doing here, boy?" He asked suspiciously.

"I got lost," Bran said miserably.

"Well, go on then," said the Unspeakable in a tone that clearly said 'get lost'.

Bran got up, grabbed the papers (some of which, he noticed glumly, were badly wrinkled), and headed away from the lift, to where he knew the stairs were located.

"Where are you going, boy?" the Unspeakable asked sharply.

"The stairs…?" Bran asked hopefully.

"I don't think so. Go down in the lift, boy."

Bran half-heartedly complied. While he didn't trust the lift not to spit him out in some other bizarre location, walking down the hall towards the stairs and, at the same time, the entrance to the Department of Mysteries, left him with a horrible feeling of déjà vu and guilt.

It was, of course, where Harry Potter lost his godfather.

And, about that…He wanted some time to study the veil through which Sirius had fallen. Bran didn't trust some random 'experts' to say that whoever fell through wouldn't be coming back. There was the strange fact that the dog animagus' body did not fall out the other end, which suggested that it was…somewhere else. Of course, it had been years…He would have to speak to the others. It would require a joint effort and cooperation if they were to actually _break in_ to the Department of Mysteries _again_.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

_Remus was all but thrown into a dingy little house. He winced as he fell down yet again. The other werewolves were rarely very hospitable to wolves not from their own pack and ones that reeked of humans were treated lower than dirt. He had tried to explain this to Dumbledore, of course, but the old wizard had looked so very tired and had insisted so very softly that they _needed_ the support of the werewolves for their war. And what was he supposed to say to that?_

_There was a muffled giggling and a shushing sound._

"_Isra! Lyra! You two are going to give me away!" A third person hissed, annoyed. This annoyed person apparently forgot that the listener was a werewolf and could hear everything they were saying. _

_Remus looked up. A pair of bright blue eyes and two of a lighter shade peered down at him. A young man was perched up in the uneven wood of the ceiling, two young girls with him, one of his hands over the mouth of one, his other hand holding the other girl to keep her from falling._

"_Now you've done it, Sali," the girl with a hand over her mouth said in a slightly muffled voice._

"_Yeah, Sali," the other girl taunted, "You just gave away our best hiding spot!"_

"_Oh shush, you two. Do you know who this is?" _

"_Papa didn't say anything about a visitor."_

_  
"Yes he did, there's a member of the north pack that wants to talk to him."_

"But that's not until Thursday_!"_

"_Girls, no arguing. If you get any louder, your father might find us and I'll be kicked out. Again." _

_The two girls (twins?) giggled, apparently amused by the situation,_

"_Papa practically gave use to you to watch over."_

"_I think he gave up on removing you permanently. You just never go away."_

"_Like a cockroach!" The two chorused. _

"_Girls, I'm hurt. Where did you learn that particular phrase from, anyways?"_

"_Mama!"_

"Mama was talking about you, you know."

"_She thought that you weren't good for the pack."_

"_She said you were dangerous."_

"_But she's never met you, you know."_

"_Papa even defended you."_

"_Well, sort of."_

"_So an unexpected guest?" Sali wondered, apparently used to the two acting like this._

"_I'm Remus Lupin," Remus offered._

"_He's a wolf!" One of the girls crowed._

"_But he stinks like human!"_

"_Girls!" Sali reprimanded them, "You could have told me he could hear what we were saying, let alone see us."_

"_But can't you tell, Sali?" the first girl asked, all innocence and sweetness. _

_Sali was not amused,_

"_Shush," he swatted the two of them on the head lightly. They beamed up at him._

"_I'm Isra," the first girl introduced herself._

"_And I'm Lyra," the other girl told Remus._

"_And he's Sali!" They said together, pointing at the young man._

"_Only don't call him Sally, 'cause then he gets really mad," Isra told him conspiratorially. _

_There was a distant noise and all four of them turned to look at the door._

"_Uh-oh, Papa's coming," Lyra said guiltily._

"_If Papa finds us here with the strange human-wolf, he'll be mad," Isra pointed out._

"_Sorry," Sali said apologetically to Remus, "I suppose we have to go. See you some other time, then, Remus." And they disappeared through a small gap between the rotting wall and ceiling-boards. _

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"Has anyone seen Remus?" Hermione Granger asked the other members of the staff over breakfast. All she got was negative replies. "That's strange…I was sure that he promised to meet with me this morning…"

"Is that idiot wolf still missing?" Snape questioned, not really caring about the answer.

"Don't call him that!" Hermione was quick to defend her friend and, nowadays, mentor.

"I'll call him what I like, Granger. That sorry excuse of a teacher was _supposed_ to be watching Devin yesterday while we were gone. When we came back, he was missing, his rooms were locked up, and it took all afternoon to locate the child, who had wondered off and cried himself to sleep in some obscure tower."

"Ah-ha! You care about the kid," Hermione smiled as if coming to some remarkable conclusion.

"I may not be one of the most-liked teachers, Granger, but I am not so horrible as to let a child get lost and scare himself to tears in a large castle such as this."

"Sev!" That childish squeal could only belong to one person, as anyone else that dared call Snape 'Sev' would have been dead in an instant. The young, silver-eyed child that they were talking about ran into the Great Hall and over to where Snape was sitting, an amused Draco following at a more sedate pace, "Lookit what I drew!" He proudly held up a picture of something blue and brown.

"That's lovely," Hermione said politely before Snape even got a chance to say anything, "What is it a picture of?"

The child scowled at her,

"It's the Ravenclaw Common Room."

"Oh really?" Snape asked with a raised eyebrow, "And when did you get into there?"

"Professor Flitwick showed me!" And suddenly the child was all sunshine and rainbows again. "But I bet Raven could do even better. I wish he was here…"

And suddenly the whole table was paying attention. After all, none of them had been able to find out anything about Devin's life before he had arrived at Hogwarts.

"Who's Raven?" Snape asked casually. Or, at least, as casually as you could when you're Snape.

"He's a really, really good drawer!" Devin babbled, "He drew this really great picture of a thestral for me, only I lost it when I came here." A thestral? Had this Raven person seen death or just drawn what he called a thestral? But if he had lived through the war, it wasn't _that_ unusual to have seen someone die…

"…And the Great Hall is this way…" A voice came floating through the still-open door, the one that Devin and Draco had entered through.

"Oh dear. It looks like we're interrupting something. I hope I didn't come at a bad time."

The first voice laughed,

"Oh, no, that's just breakfast. Happens everyday."

"But this is so…grand," the second voice said in awe, "Nothing like the packs."

"It's Hogwarts," the first voice said proudly.

Snape looked up to see Remus Lupin walk into the Great Hall, followed by the person that had bumped into him the day before. _Black?_ But no, now that there was time to look at him, he didn't look quite like the Gryffindor after all. Sure the eyes were very similar, and his black hair fell around his face in a scraggly way that vaguely recalled Black's unkempt hair after Azkaban but that was about it.

Then he remembered another person he had been examining like this the day before. A Black look-a-like and a Potter look-a-like, both within twenty-four hours? And both had stumbled into him (or Draco) within ten minutes of each other at Harry Potter's trial. Not to mention that the thing that made both doppelgangers look like the originals was the eyes…Coincidence? Highly unlikely.

"Ah, Remus," Dumbledore spoke up from his seat in the middle of the staff table, "Who's your friend?"

"Sali Azar Slythurn," the Black look-a-like introduced himself with a flourishing bow, "And it's Sali, not Sally. I've recently been called," he made a face, "Sal by a certain pair of troublesome twins but _never_ Sally, got that?" There was a silence. The Weasley girl dropped her goblet, some unidentifiable orange juice staining the tablecloth. "Uh…Did I say something wrong?"

"Salazar Slytherin was the founder of Slytherin house," Remus explained, "You never did tell me your middle name, Sali."

Sali sighed,

"Oh well, just another thing to 'thank' mother about if I ever see her again. Probably decided to have a bit of fun at my expense, seeing how the last names are so similar," He raised his voice again, "Oh, well then never mind people, it's just Sali, then. Call me anything else and I may have to hex you, seeing how my last name seems to carry some sort of negative influence in this school. Even though it's Slythurn, not Slytherin. Or something."

"Welcome, then, Mr. Slythurn," Dumbledore said grandly, "Or Sali, if that's how you'd prefer to be called."

"It is, thank you…" He hesitated. Dumbledore started to say something but Sali interrupted, "Give me a minute, I know this one…It was, um…Dum…Dumb…Dumbumble?" He questioned. Or had it been Dumblebee? Dumberee? Something like that. Someone snickered.

"Ah, no, it's Dumbledore," the Headmaster corrected.

"Uh…Right. I knew that," Sali blushed a little, "Thank you, Headmaster Dumbledore."

"Enough with the formalities, why don't you join us for breakfast," Dumbledore offered.

"I think I will, thank you."

Sali and Remus approached the table and found seats near Dumbledore.

"Professor, Remus and I were discussing last night…Is there a possibility that I'll be able to take over classes when Remus needs too? He has been feeling…unwell…recently and is afraid that he won't be able to cover all of his classes properly."

"I don't see why not. In fact, I can even take you on as a full-time teacher, if that is what you'd prefer!" Dumbledore said exuberantly.

"But aren't all the classes taken?"

"What I mean is that you can, if Remus doesn't mind, teach classes along with him. As more of an assistant than a full-time teacher, of course, if that is what you'd prefer."

"That does sound wonderful," Sali agreed.

The rest of the table was watching this exchange with shock and a bit of annoyance. Dumbledore had only known this strange wizard for a few minutes, and already he was inviting him to join the staff!

"So where is it that you went last night?" Dumbledore asked casually.

"Oh, we were just catching up," Sali answered airily, a voice that he was particularly good at, "While we were talking, the kid disappeared so we went to look for him. Couldn't find him, so once we thought we'd looked everywhere obvious and so we went to Hogsmeade. Looked around the grounds, asked if anyone had seen a child, had a few drinks…Came back, saw…Um…Snarl? No, Snap…"

"Snape," Remus corrected Sali.

"Yeah, him! We saw him with the kid, figured everything was fine, and locked ourselves back in Remus' chambers to catch up some more. I'm researching werewolf rights, you know, so we talked about what I'd been doing, what else I could get done, and how Remus has been treated as a werewolf…that sort of thing."

"Are you really?" Hermione asked, practically glowing with excitement. The others groaned, able to recognize the beginnings of a S.P.E.W. rant, "I'm doing the same thing for house-elves!"

"Really?" Sali asked interestedly, "I've never met a house-elf, of course, but I heard that they're they funniest creatures."

"There's nothing funny about the way they're being treated," Hermione ranted, "There's some ghastly rules set into place for them. Did you know that a house-elf can't mate or use their magic without their master's permission? And some people that have house-elves abuse them and force them to do horrible things!"

"Some of them?" Sali asked, "Do you have any statistics? Any idea of how many is 'some' and how many treat their house-elves well and with respect? A percentage for how many house-elves are dissatisfied with their life?"

"Well…no…" Hermione admitted.

"Did _you_ know that almost seventy-eight percent of full-grown wizards consider werewolves to be little more than animals? That, during some point in their life, thirty percent of all wizards will be involved in some sort of active werewolf hunting? That it is illegal for werewolves to have children and if they're caught, both the parent and children are killed by the ministry? That roughly one hundred werewolves out of one hundred and eighty or so newly-turned werewolves each year kill themselves so that they don't harm anyone else? That most werewolf packs are forced to move at least twenty times each year by the ministry because they live in homes that are big enough to be considered technically and magically 'dwellings'?"

The rest of the table stared at him in shock. There had never been anyone able to make Hermione shut up once she started on S.P.E.W., let alone out-rant her. And he seemed to have some really good points, too.

The school year would, at least, be interesting, if nothing else.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

_Dear Terra,_

_I'm sorry that it took so long to contact you. The person that I arranged to meet at the ministry did not show up, and I am quite certain that it was a prank. I did, however, meet a werewolf that teaches at Hogwarts!_

_I am quite excited by this discovery and I hope that I'll be able to find other wizards that know him and are not quite afraid of werewolves in general. It might by my chance to prove that werewolves by themselves are as harmless as anyone else and, perhaps, lift some of the atrocious restrictions on werewolf rights. _

_I have decided to stay at Hogwarts for a while and try and speak to the students. The rest of the staff is also quite supportive of my ideals. I have arranged with the Headmaster that food be sent to the packs (there's so much here you wouldn't believe it!) regularly by the house-elves. I'm also earning money that I'll be able to send to the pack or use on things the pack needs. The Headmaster is also interested in my ideas that might allow us to get the pack's children some education (magical and otherwise). _

_I hope that the pack will be able to manage well enough in my absence and that everyone else will be able to work peacefully with the humans and wizards that I managed to convince to help our cause. If there is any trouble, notify me immediately. _

_Hopefully I'll be able to visit regularly._

_Say hello to everyone for me and tell the twins to behave!_

_Love,_

_Sali Azar Slythurn_

_PS Would you believe that I just found out that I was named after the allegedly most evil wizard of all time? How bizarre is that?_

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

So there you are; you get a few more hints and I get a break from Dark Angel before I decide to dive into it again.

The next Dark Angel will be out soon. Really soon. Like later today, soon.


End file.
